A Second Chance: The Rewrite
by S.L
Summary: The war in his world is over: Harry Potter, tired of fighting, uses a spell that will take him to a new world, where his parents, and friends are alive, but where he died as a baby. Is this new start too good to be true?
1. Chapter 1: Of Two Worlds

A Second Chance

By S.L

Chapter One: Of Two Worlds

"And how would you repel a boggart John?" James asked as he rubbed his temples and tried not to think of the painfully slow moving hands on the classroom's clock. He had been going over boggarts with his third year class all morning, and the basics still weren't sinking in. In short, James couldn't wait for that blessed bell to ring, sounding the beginning of the Christmas holiday.

The nervous boy James had addressed gnawed at his lip and began shuffling through the scattering of papers on his desk. Giving up his search, John timidly peered at his professor. "La-laughter… pr-profes-s-sor?"

Sighing James moved his hand away from his temples to pinch the bridge of his nose. Honestly, was he really that frightening? He pushed his black-rimmed glasses down from his forehead onto his nose so he could survey the rest of his third years. No one else looked afraid of him. Actually the majority of the class was half asleep, and the rest were anxiously watching the clock.

John was a Longbottom after all, and they tended to be a nervous bunch, John more so than the other Longbottom children even. He had been a student of James' for almost two and a half years and he still quivered whenever James asked him a question in class.

"Yes John, very good," James said. "5 points to Hufflepuff." He glanced back down at his watch in hopes that it would display something more agreeable than what the clock on the wall read. Fifteen minutes still stood before him and his Christmas holiday.

Bugger that, James thought and pushed himself off from his leaning position against his desk. Forget scheduling, as far as he was concerned class was over.

"Class dismissed everyone; let's call it an early Christmas present. Now don't forget to study over the holiday for your test next month, oh and Linda," James pointed to a blond girl as she packed up her books. "Tell your brother I said hello, and that I am expecting a visit from him before he leaves for Greece. Be safe everyone, have a Happy Christmas and most importantly have fun!"

As the students filled out, waving goodbye and wishing him a happy holiday, James forced himself to smile. Normally he wouldn't need a fake smile- he actually enjoyed teaching immensely- today however, he just wanted classes to be done with so that the holidays could begin. He intended to spend the rest of the night packing so he and his family could leave for their house in Hogsmeade first thing in the morning. Tomorrow afternoon his best friends, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, would be arriving to spend the two-week Christmas break at the Potter house. During that time he didn't intend to do anything but relax with his wife Lily, hang out with his best friends and play Quidditch. The only students he wanted to see were his son Brandon and his daughter Marissa.

It took a few minutes for the third years to empty out of the classroom, but the moment the last group cleared the threshold James cheerfully slammed the door shut. Another moment was all it took for James to retreat into his office and slam that door shut as well. Then he grabbed a pot of floo powder and threw a pinch into the flames of his small fire. "Number 12 Grimmauld Place," he shouted as the flames turned a bright green, then he promptly stuck his head into the fire.

James' head spun through space for a moment before popping into the flames at Sirius' place. The kitchen was empty so James called out for his friend until he saw him running into the room holding a pair of boots by the laces in one hand and a dusty old robe in another.

"Hey Prongs! What's up?" Sirius greeted, throwing the things onto the kitchen table before kneeling down in front of the grate.

"All packed up?" James asked him, not bothering to hide the excitement in his voice.

Sirius gave a noncommittal shrug. "Packing now mate," he replied, looking back at the things on the table as if in deep thought. "Think I'll need omnioculars for any reason?"

"What? Why?" James asked; his brows knitted together in confusion. However he rushed on before his old friend could launch into a long, drawn out, and completely Sirius Black explanation. "Whatever mate, bring what you want."

"What about an Ever-Bashing Boomerang?"

James shook away the flames that were licking at the side of his neck. "Only if you want Lily to kill you."

"And I thought I would bring Bran some of Dr. Filibuster's fireworks," Sirius continued, giving no indication that he heard James at all. "I picked up a new box of them last week."

"Bloody hell Sirius, shut up for a minute will you?" James shouted at his oldest friend.

Sirius gave him a careless sort of grin. "Oh don't worry about favoritism James. I'll pick up a book from Flourish and Blott's for Mare."

"I'm not," James began, trying not to snicker at his friend; it pushed too much soot up his nose. "Listen, I'm not concerned about favoritism, but hey, if you're going to Flourish and Blott's could you pick up a copy of _Jinxes for the Jinxed_ for Lily? I think I managed to burn her last copy. Anyways," James tried to rush on, but Sirius held up his hand and smiled.

"Burned it?" he asked.

"Yeah," James said, a trifle embarrassed. "I was trying out a new jinx and well," he ignored his friend's snort of laughter and continued on. "Anyways Lily wants to know if you're bringing the motorbike. She said if you do, you can expect to stay out in the broom shed with it."

"Apparating it is then," Sirius said. "So, all done with classes?"

"Yeah. All done with work?"

"Two weeks paid vacation mate," Sirius smiled. "I'm not due back until the third."

"Wicked," James agreed, then the flames erupted around his head and he felt himself being forced over as another head appeared next to his.

"Honestly," Lily Potter said, eyeing the two of them. "One would think you both are students the way you carry on."

"Didn't you know Lily?" Sirius asked, with a completely straight face. "I'm a 41-year-old second year."

"Trust me Sirius," Lily began, "there is no doubt in my mind that you are. By the way my son has earned himself another two detentions this week."

Sirius looked away, suddenly finding a smudge of soot on his floor very intriguing. "So, what's that got to do with me?"

"You've been writing him new ideas again," she scolded dryly. "Spinning tales of the old days maybe?" She coughed implying, and gave him a meaningful look. "This last trick of his had the Marauder's all over it. Even Minerva recognized your hand in it."

Mistakenly James tried to choke back laughter, but Lily caught him at it and shot him an accusing look.

"Don't think you can get out of this either _Prongs_," she snapped, emphasizing his old nickname. "He could have gotten the idea just as easily from you as he could Sirius," her gaze softened and she smiled again. "Now then, James, seeing as how you two have a play date scheduled for tomorrow do you think you could spare some time for your wife?"

James winked at his best friend. "Duty calls Padfoot old friend, I'll see you tomorrow night."

Sirius rolled his eyes; he was already starting to collect his discarded things from the table. "Contain yourselves until you get out of my fireplace please, this is a respectable house after all."

"Not with you in it!" James called back before his head disappeared and returned back to his body.

When he was able to shake off the effects of the fire call, and dust the soot off the knees of his robes he found that not only was Lily in his office, but his daughter Marissa (nicknamed Mare), was there as well. Both of his favorite girls were sitting side by side on his couch giving him twin looks of expectation.

Though Marissa Potter did not resemble her mother beyond the matching long red hair, she had an almost identical personality. Though only fourteen, Mare was already a formidable young woman. She was also, (and James was rather proud of this), the smartest witch in her year, and was rarely ever found without a book. Sometimes James found her enthusiasm a little excessive, but that was about the time she would put him to shame about some potion or charm and he would keep his mouth shut.

"What did I do?" James asked as soon as he caught the look on his daughter's face.

Mare's lips twitched, never a good sign. "You were supposed to meet me in the library so I could get _Most Potente Potions_ from the Restricted Section. Now the library is closed for the holiday and I have to wait until January. My holiday study is ruined."

James felt like rolling his eyes at an issue he found a blessing more than something to get upset about, but he knew if his daughter didn't kill him for it, then his wife would. "I'm sorry baby, I completely forgot. Maybe we can make a special trip to Diagon Alley and pick up our own copy."

Mare's lips stopped twitching and straightened into a thin line. "You can't, it's a limited release. Hogwarts has one of the only copies still in circulation. _That's why it's in the Restricted Section_." Then she snorted and stood up. "Forget it Dad, you just don't get it!" Then without even saying goodbye to her mother, she stormed out of the room.

James exchanged a look of pure terror with his wife. "What was that?" He pushed his bangs out of his eyes. "I really don't think I was cut out to have a teenage daughter."

Laughing lightly, Lily moved to slip an arm around her husband. "You make a fantastic father Mr. Potter. Your children love and adore you, and so does your wife." She kissed him warmly on the cheek and pulled away. "Now how about we go and grab some dinner?"

"That," he told her, grabbing one of her hands, "is a fantastic idea."

"So how were classes today?" Lily asked as they made their way to the Great Hall.

James nearly groaned out loud at the reminder. "Terrible, nobody bothered to make any effort at all."

"What with the holiday's starting tomorrow?" Lily laughed. "Its no wonder! I remember when you used to make the last week before the holidays absolute hell for our professors." She gave him a sidelong glance. "Not to mention what you used to put your classmates through," she said with a huff of indignation. It was well known that Lily and James had not been friends during their Hogwarts days. It wasn't until after graduation that they had had any kind of relationship.

"Oh come on Lily," James teased, giving her hand a quick squeeze. "Besides who likes learning about goblin rebellions anyways? I simply used to make things more… colorful."

"Like when you turned Minerva's hair blue?"

James recoiled in comic protest. "Hey! She was starting to show grey! I was just doing her a favor. "He chuckled and pulled his wife closer. "So how was your day then?"

Though Lily was not a professor by any means she did call Hogwarts home. After James had taken up the teaching position for Defense Against the Dark Arts he had moved his family from Godric's Hollow to Hogsmeade and had taken to spending nights and weekends in the village. However, four years ago when Mare had begun her first year Lily had begun to complain of loneliness.

It was actually Dumbledore who had thought up a solution to the issue, after hearing James worry over the issue for the first few months of Mare's first year. He had suggested that Lily move up to Hogwarts during the term to serve him as the Headmaster's secretary.

Both Lily and James knew that the job was only for show, but Lily had jumped at the opportunity anyways, since it gave her the chance to be around her family again. Since then James and Lily lived primarily in the staff quarters and only went down to their house in Hogsmeade for the holidays. The kids quipped about having both of their parents at school sometimes, but their arguments were half hearted.

"Not awful," Lily answered, her smile wavering, "but nothing fantastic either."

After asserting herself as Dumbledore's secretary and assistant Lily began to take on new responsibilities. Now the administrative job was really more of a front than anything else. Most of Lily's time was spent riffling through reports and statements as well as other news for the Order of the Phoenix.

Both James and Lily had been in the Order since graduation, it was actually where they had begun their romantic relationship. However while James' role was only a small one, Lily knew nearly as much about the Order as Dumbledore' himself. James wasn't too sure how he felt about this at times, since it was highly dangerous work. Surprisingly enough Lily took a great deal of pride in the work she was doing, and had no intention of quitting any time soon.

"We had another threat today," she confided in a low voice. The halls were becoming more crowded with students now that they were nearing the Great Hall. "I'll have to talk to you about it later though, but don't worry, its nothing too serious."

"Don't worry yourself Lily," James said, releasing her hand before they entered the Great Hall. "We've lived with You-Know-Who's threats for this long. Things will work out, you'll see."

Lily didn't say anything in response, but James knew he would hear her thoughts later. Lily rarely kept anything to herself for long.

The Great Hall was only half full of students, as most were probably off packing. A few of the professors were already gone as well. James knew for a fact that Pomona Sprout was off visiting her sister in Berlin and Filius Flitwick had been bragging about a vacation in Paris for weeks. Severus Snape was missing as well, but James assumed that it was just because he was being a socially isolated git, and James was hardly about to complain about _that_ particular absence anyways.

James and Lily made their way to the head table, pushing through the throng of students looking for seats. James stopped for a moment to chat with a fifth year Slytherin about a shielding charm before finding a seat between Minerva McGonagall and Lily. His wife was already engaged in a conversation with Poppy Pomfrey about a new line of Ministry approved healing potions, and Minerva was chatting politely with Headmaster Dumbledore, so James chose to watch the students.

His daughter was missing from the Gryffindor table, but he spotted Bran with fellow Gryffindor sixth year Jack Slopper, one of Bran's best friends. They were laughing hard over something Jack was hiding in a robe pocket. For a second James' teaching instinct kicked in and he felt he should see what the boys found so interesting, but the thought was short lived. It was basically the holidays and there was a good-looking Shepard's pie in front of him that he wasn't willing to leave.

Dinner of course, was as delicious as always and James savored it while he could. Lily was great at many things, but cooking wasn't one of them. The meals over the next two weeks would likely consist of the Potter family left to scrounge up their own food. But James did like to brag he had a rather wicked recipe for omelets. It was pretty much the only thing he could cook.

"Pumpkin pie, James?" Minerva asked when desserts came around. "You look like you're stocking up over there."

"You know me, Minerva," James said, accepting a piece with a wide smile. "Got to get it while I can."

She chuckled and adjusted her spectacles. "Big plans for the holidays then?" she asked. "I assume that Sirius and Remus will be visiting as usual?"

"You know it," James confirmed, tucking in to the piece of pie in front of him.

"Well as much as I enjoy their company, please remember to do your best to keep Sirius a good distance from the castle will you?"

James gave her a wicked looking smile. "Not willing to be chased up a tree again Minerva?"

A slim hand slipped around James' shoulder. "Quit teasing Minerva, James. The poor woman hasn't had a break from Marauder mischief since you lot came to Hogwarts."

Minerva raised her glass to Lily in agreement and appreciation. "Well said Lily. At least I can count on you to keep that lot in line." She winked at Lily. "Have a happy holiday though dear, and do enjoy yourself, you have been working far too hard lately."

"I will Minerva," Lily agreed. "Speaking of holidays James," she whispered in his ear when Minerva turned to talk with Dumbledore. "Why don't we go upstairs and pack so we can begin ours?"

James looked up into her sparkling eyes and grinned. "Gladly love, I think we need to make this break a memorable one, you really do need some time to really relax."

She ruffled the hair on the top of his head and kissed it after he smoothed it back down. "Agreed."

XXX

"Are you absolutely sure about this Harry?" the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, former Headmaster of Hogwarts asked through his canvas.

"No doubt in my mind," the man he had addressed responded. He was not tall, but not particularly short either. He was lithe with a mess of shaggy black hair; he also wore black, round rimmed glasses.

"You must remember that we aren't even sure the spell works," Dumbledore said with extreme caution in his voice. "There might be no turning back from this you know."

Harry ran a hand through his messy hair, revealing a thin lightning bolt scar on his forehead. "Dumbledore my family is gone, my friends are dead, and everyone I ever cared for…" he stopped, unable to go on. Then he shook his head and looked up, there was grim determination written in his bright eyes. "Listen, I've fulfilled my purpose here. I've lived out the prophecy, killed Voldemort, and set the magical world on its way to recovery. It's time for me to leave, I can't live here anymore."

"Things _are_ changing Harry," Dumbledore urged. "We _are_ already recovering, you said so yourself."

"I know," Harry smiled gently. "And things are getting better, better than before even, but there is nothing left for me here." His smile weakened. "I will never escape from the reminder of who I am, what I've done, and what I lost. Everyone here knows my name, my legacy-" He shook his head to clear his thoughts. "I need to be normal Dumbledore. You know that all I ever wanted was a normal family, normal friends and a normal life. You understand that more than anybody."

Dumbledore hung his head sadly, admitting defeat. He had known he was fighting a losing battle here, but it had been worth one last attempt. "I will miss you boy, I have to say I had wanted to give you hope, but deep down I didn't think you would really do this." He lifted his head to stare into Harry's eyes one last time. "You should know that you've done this world proud son. _I'm_ proud of you."

"Thank you Albus," Harry whispered, his words meant more than the old man could ever know. "Now, how do I look?" he straightened showing Dumbledore his usual black robes, the Hogwarts crest ever present on his chest.

Dumbledore gave him a small smile. "Happy," he told him. "You look ready to leave us. Be careful though Harry. The next world might not be everything it seems- everything you are hoping it to be."

"It's a new start," Harry told him grimly. He knew the risk he was taking. It wasn't an easy out, and it was hardly going to be an easy path. But it was a second chance at the life he missed out on, and that's all he could really ask for. "That's enough."

"What do you want me to tell the others when they come looking?"

Harry sat down on his trunk heavily. "Snape suspects something, I'm sure, he brewed the potion-"

"_Professor_ Snape, Harry," Dumbledore corrected, the familiar saying causing Harry to grin.

"Also I said goodbye to what's left of the Weasley family," he went on, "but they didn't know what I had planned. I just told them I had to get away, that it was time for me to leave." Harry stood up again and smiled at his old friend. "Tell them I've moved on to my next great adventure."

Then he trapped his two trunks with his wand, muttering a spell and shrinking them until they were pocket sized.

"Do you have everything you'll need?" Dumbledore asked.

"Everything," Harry confirmed with a sharp nod. Then he strode toward the simmering red potion that sat on the Headmaster's desk. "Cheers Headmaster," he said raising the beaker to Dumbledore, then he added in a more sincere tone; "I'll miss you, old man."

Then in quick succession, he threw back the potion, slammed it back down on the desk, pulled out his wand, pointed it at himself and screamed, "_Damnari Voti_!" Then in a blinding flash of red light he was gone.

Dumbledore took one last look at the empty beaker on his old desk and settled back into his frame.

"Good," Phineas said from his portrait next to Dumbledore. "Now maybe we'll finally be able to get some peace and quite around here."


	2. Chapter 2: With Some Veritaserum

A Second Chance

By S.L

Chapter Two: What You Can Learn With Some _Veritaserum_

The trunks were stacked neatly at the door, the rooms were dark and a fire was dying out in the grate in the den. It was one thirty in the morning and James had been in bed from an early hour so that he could be well rested enough to enjoy the relaxation of the holiday. Lily had also retired early, but now she was awake, reading by the light the fire still provided. She had never been a deep sleeper, and something about having kids had turned her into an even bigger insomniac. So she had given up trying to count sheep and opted to get some reading done instead.

The Hogwarts staff quarters were not overly large. Lily and James shared a bedroom, bathroom, den and even a kitchen; all of them small, but it suited them fine. Like the rest of the Hogwarts staff they rarely found themselves in their room anyways. Most free moments they were able to scrap together they found themselves in their offices or in the staff room relaxing rather than their quarters. Any time actually spent in their rooms was usually used for sleeping.

And so it was that Lily was awake and in the den, curled up around a copy of _The Dark Arts Outsmarted_ when the fire suddenly flared up.

"Oh good, Lily, you're awake," Dumbledore said as soon as his head popped into the flames. He had his long, grey beard tied to the top of his head so that it wouldn't catch fire. The sight would have been comical if it hadn't been for the grave look on his face.

"What's wrong, Albus?" Lily asked, folding over the corner of the page she was on and setting aside the book and leaning forward in her chair. "What's happened?"

He exhaled loudly, causing a few sparks to hiss and fly out of the grate before dying on the cold stone floor. "I need your assistance immediately. There's been a break in. I'd like you to meet me in the Hospital Wing immediately." Then he promptly popped out of the fire and the flames dyed back down to burning embers.

As quickly as she could manage, without waking James, Lily threw on a dressing down over her pajamas and shuffled into a pair of slippers. She paused only to pen a quick note for her husband in case he woke up while she was gone, then she grabbed her satchel of supplies and left.

The Potter's quarters were down the hall from James' classroom on the second floor so it was only a matter of minutes before Lily was climbing the stairs and entering the Hospital Wing.

Dumbledore and Poppy were already there waiting for her when she arrived. Both were crowded around a man lying immobile in a bed near the end of the hall. The wing was otherwise empty, no students would dare to risk their holiday by admitting to being sick, or by playing sick, so near the holiday.

"Good, Lily, you brought your things," Dumbledore said when he noticed Lily her padding up to them in her slippers. "I'm going to need for you to take notes." He turned to Poppy. "Thank you for your assistance Poppy, but would you please excuse us? I'm afraid this is Order business now."

Poppy seemed about to argue with the Headmaster, but after a quick glance at Lily she appeared to decide against it. Instead she turned around and retreated to her own living quarters.

"What's the story Albus?" Lily asked as she unpacked her things.

Dumbledore hesitated a minute and then pointed to the bed. "I found this young man lying face down on my office floor when I returned this evening," he turned and gave Lily a grave look. No one had ever managed to break into his office before, there were certain things hidden in there that were meant to be confidential; the secrets of Hogwarts, the Order were all kept in that office. Dumbledore, and even Lily herself, stood to lose a good deal if some of those documents and objects were found.

Lily nodded her understanding of the severity of the situation and urged Dumbledore to continue.

"I do not recognize him, but he wears a Hogwarts crest." He used his wand to pluck at the front of the stranger's robe where a large crest of Hogwarts was delicately sewn. The robes were old and dusty, but were once of good quality. It was obvious that some care had gone into them.

"Do you suspect that he's a spy? Trying to disguise himself as a pupil?" Lily asked, as she too examined the crest. It was very fine indeed, but not at all the type the standard type the students wore. "Do you suspect You-Know-Who?" She added in more of a hush.

Albus didn't answer her, so Lily went back to examining the man on the bed. He appeared to be very young, no older than his early twenties at least. As she had noticed his robes were of good workmanship, however old, and not of student stock. He also had shaggy black hair that was haphazardly falling across his face. There were no distinguishing features about him that Lily could notice, other than a jagged looking scar on his forehead. Lily was sure she didn't know him either, but for some reason she couldn't shake the feeling that he was oddly familiar.

"Is he safe to be around Albus?" Lily finally asked after her preliminary inspection of the stranger was through. She had already checked to see if he was bound to the bed and found that he was not.

Dumbledore nodded as he dug a vial of clear liquid out of his robes and handed it to Lily. "He was unconscious when I came across him, but I stunned him in any case, before bringing him here. I checked his pockets as well; they are sealed and can only be opened by him I am assuming." He nodded at the stranger, almost approvingly. It was, unfortunately for them, a very smart move on the intruder's behalf. Now they wouldn't be able to properly search him and take away anything that might be in his possession. "He also has a wand strapped to his right forearm, again safeguarded against strangers trying to take it from him."

"Interesting," Lily said, eyeing the potion in her hands. It was _veritaserum_, and not entirely unfamiliar to her.

"Poppy checked him out, she says his magical core is severely low, depleted by a strong spell more than likely. What ever he used to get into my office probably cleaned him out. Otherwise he's perfectly healthy," he said, sighing tiredly. He rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses and settled them back into place before looking back at Lily. "Poppy doesn't expect him to wake up on his own for a day at least. It will take him that long to regenerate enough levels of magic to remain consciousness," he dropped his hand from his face and smiled at Lily. "However, we can still question him regardless of that fact." He pointed at the vial Lily now held and smiled. "Administer the _veritaserum_ please Lily."

"Gladly," Lily told him as she uncorked the vial. Then, none too gently, Lily forced open the stranger's lips jaw and poured the entire contents of the vial down his throat.

"Let's begin shall we?" Dumbledore said as he magically pulled up two chairs from across the room with a sharp flick of his wand. "If you would start taking notes now please Lily."

Lily nodded and pulled out her quick quotes quill, set it to parchment and placed it on the bedside table. It would provide an exact account of what would transpire. Then she pulled out a plain quill so she could take her own notes. "I'm ready, Albus."

He nodded at her and then began.

"Are you a Death Eater?"

The stranger did not stir, did not even open his eyes, but his lips moved just enough to emit his raspy voice. "No."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at Lily.

"Are you from the media then?"

"No."

Dumbledore shrugged, "it was worth a shot," he told Lily. It was true, they had caught many reporters on the grounds on several occasions trying to discover odds and ends, but no one had ever managed to sneak into the Headmaster's office. "Are you working under Lord Voldemort's orders?"

"No."

Dumbledore frowned then. "Are you in any way associated with Lord Voldemort?"

There was no response.

Lily set gently grabbed Dumbledore's arm to catch his attention. "The question was too general Albus, his answer would be too conflicting."

"Did Voldemort send you here."

"No."

"Does Voldemort know you are here?"

"No."

"Alright," Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and thought. "Not one of Voldemort's then, so we can erase all danger from that quarter at least. Though that does narrow our questioning, doesn't it?" With a frustrated sigh, he asked, more to himself than to Lily, "who else would have reason to sneak into my office?"

"What about the Ministry Albus?" Lily suggested.

He nodded, accepting that as a reasonable question. "Does the Ministry of Magic know you are here?"

"No."

"Did anyone from the Ministry of Magic send you?"

"No."

Dumbeldore shook his head and looked at Lily for any other suggestions.

"Did anyone send you to the Headmaster's office this evening?" Lily asked.

"No."

"Well that's it then," Dumbledore said, standing. "He's working on his own then." He turned back to the stranger, leaning over the bed. "How did you get into my office?" He asked, now curious rather than confrontational.

"A spell."

Lily laughed a little. "Too general I guess."

"What spell?" Dumbledore pressed, ignoring Lily.

"_Damnari Voti_."

Lily did not immediately recognize the spell, but Dumbledore obviously did. In an instant Dumbledore's mood and stance completely shifted. Suddenly the mild disinterest of a routine interrogation was gone. He was leaning forward intently, one hand resting on the edge of the strangers bed.

"What did you say?" He asked, his voice a harsh whisper.

"_Damnari Voti_," was the calm response.

"What is it Albus?" Lily asked Dumbledore. "What's _damnari voti_ Albus? I don't think I've ever heard of it."

"No, you wouldn't have," Dumbledore replied. "Not very many people do know of its existence." He turned back towards the stranger. "Where did you learn of that spell?"

"Hogwarts."

Dumbledore and Lily exchanged another look before he pressed on. "Who taught you that spell?"

"Albus Dumbledore."

This time Lily put aside her notes and gave Dumbledore a sharp look. "Albus?"

"In a moment, Lily," Dumbledore mumbled, waving her question aside. His hands gripped the frame of the bed and he licked his lips, getting ready for one more question. "What is your name?" He asked finally. Lily and Dumbledore's glances immediately rested on the stranger as they waited for a response.

"Harry James Potter."

For a moment there was absolute dead silence. Then there was a soft tap as Lily's quill hit the floor. "The _veritaserum_ didn't work," she said simply, her voice sounding strangely calm, even to herself.

"Yes, Lily, it did."

Lily cast an annoying glance at Dumbledore before bending down to pick up her quill off the floor. "Well it wasn't potent enough then," she added casually. "We need to get a stronger dosage."

"That was our strongest dosage," Dumbledore replied, giving her a strange look.

His response froze Lily and slowly she stood up, and didn't seem to notice as her notes flittered to the floor. Then slowly she shook her head. "No." She cast a glance down at the man on the bed and her breath caught in her throat. Then she closed her eyes and tried not to think. Her first son had been named Harry. He had died when he was barely on a year old, killed by You-Know-Who. Not very many people even remembered that James and Lily had even had any other children before Bran and Mare. "That would be impossible."

"Lily," Dumbeldore began, stepping forward.

"No!" Lily snapped back at him, throwing her quill to the floor. "Don't you even dare suggest it Albus! Not to me!"

Dumbledore continued on, despite the threatening tone in Lily's voice. He had experienced her temper as much as the next person, and she had a good reason for lashing out. "Lily, I think that this man might be your son."

There was silence again, and Lily sunk back into her chair. Her face had paled visibly and she licked her lips nervously. Then her gaze moved from the hospital bed back to Dumbledore's unfairly calm face. "No," she whispered to him, this time fighting back tears. "What is going on, Albus? I don't, I don't understand this. This cannot be my son. It can't be." She dropped her head into her hands, and tried to gain control over herself again. A moment later she felt Dumbledore's heavy hand fall gently onto one of her shoulders.

A strangled sort of sob escaped Lily's lips, and she shrugged his hand off. She didn't much feel like being comforted right now. "_I watched him_ _die_ Albus. I saw it with my own eyes. What you are suggesting _isn't_ even possible." Lily turned quickly in her seat to face Dumbledore and sighed. He was the smartest wizard she had ever meant, and she had never had reason to doubt him before, but what he was suggesting was ludicrous, wasn't it?

She reached up and felt her cheek, it was wet from the tears that had been streaming down her face, though she didn't remember crying. A dull sort of feeling was spreading through her chest now as the shock was beginning to disappear. Feeling desperate now Lily choked back another sob shook her head at Dumbledore. "I don't understand this Albus. Please," she begged. "Please tell me what is going on here."

She was vaguely aware of the sound of the quick quotes quill as it continued to scratch furiously across the parchment to keep up with her, but she couldn't summon up enough energy to care about that. Instead, she watched as Dumbledore settled in the chair next to her so that he was facing her. He replaced the hand on her shoulder and looked at her very seriously. "That spell he mentioned Lily," he began slowly, making sure she caught every word. "The _damnari voti_ spell is a dimension altering incantation. If he used it, and if he was successful, as I believe he was," he glanced quickly at the man on the bed. "If he was successful, then we are looking at Harry Potter, your son, from another world."

Lily blinked back another round of tears and tried to clear her thoughts. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she decided not to say anything at all, instead slumping back in her chair.

Dumbledore took advantage of her confusion to eagerly begin his questioning again, giving her the opportunity to collect her thoughts.

"Are you from another world?" Dumbledore door asked excitedly.

"Yes."

"Was the _damnari vot_i spell successful?"

"Yes."

"Why did you come here?" Lily asked, her voice sounding distant even to herself. She had stood up again, though she didn't remember doing so, and was now standing rigidly straight, barely even daring to breathe. Tears were still falling slowly from her eyes, and her hands were curled into two fists at her sides.

It had been such a long time she had been faced with the memory of her son's death. She still dreamt about it sometimes, and when she looked at Bran she often wondered if Harry would have been anything like him. The ache of his death had never left her, but she had at least never been asked to face the memory of it in years.

Unfortunately, her question was met with silence.

"It's too complicated to answer Lily," Dumbeldore said gently. Then he took back control of the questioning as Lily fell back into her seat. "Are you the son of Lily and James Potter?"

"Yes."

"When were you born?"

"The 31st of July in 1980."

"Where were you born?"

"Godric's Hollow."

Lily gave a little whine. That was where her Harry had been killed, it was why they had moved to Hogsmeade and James had accepted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job.

"Were you attacked on the 31st of October in 1981?" Dumbledore asked, though he looked at Lily as he did, rather than the man on the bed.

"Yes."

"And you survived?" Lily cried out, hardly believing this was really what was going. She almost didn't dare to let herself trust that this was really happening. She didn't know how to respond to what was going on around her.

"Yes."

Lily and Dumbledore exchanged a long look. Lily broke first, struggling between laughing and crying in the end all she managed was a smiling in the form of a gasping sort of grin, as if she had been holding it in. Then she threw her arms around the old man's neck and kissed him on the cheek. "Oh Albus," she cried, letting her tears run into his long beard. "Its my son! Its my Harry!"

Slowly Dumbledore's arms reached around and patted Lily comfortingly on the back. "I must admit Lily, I never believed something like this to be possible. I'm not quite sure I know how to react."

Lily pulled away and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. Then she crossed hesitantly over to her son's bed. Her heart leaped at the very thought of calling him her son. Carefully, she sat on the edge of his bed and brought her hand to hover over his face. After a moments pause she gently caressed the hair out of his eyes and pushed it back behind his ears.

Not wanting to miss a single detail she examined his face. This time, not with a quick businesslike glance, but with the slow loving care of a mother. She didn't know how she could have missed it, but he looked so much like James. Maybe not in the identical twin way Bran did, who if anyone was an exact replica of James at that age, it would have been Bran. No, Harry's features were not identical, but definitely Potter-like, there was no mistaking it now.

Dumbledore coughed delicately behind her. "Well Lily, considering the circumstances, I'll leave this decision to you. How would you like to handle this?"

Lily continued to look at the man on the bed while she thought. "No more questioning him," she began, her back still to Dumbledore. "It isn't right, we both know this has nothing to do with You-Know-Who. I'm not sure why he's here, but he is now, and he's my son, so I won't have him treated like a criminal." She smiled down at her son and stroked his cheek with a delicate finger.

"I leave him in your very capable hands then Lily," Dumbledore said, and this time there was a hint of pleasure in his voice. "I truly hope that this is the miracle you deserve Lily," he paused for a moment in hesitation. "But when he does wake up Lily, I would like to speak with him. That spell-" she heard him inhale deeply. "I need to understand how he did it.

"Of course, Albus," Lily said, barely listening, so many things were gong through her head right then to concentrate on what he was saying.

"Goodnight, Lily."

"Goodnight, Albus," Lily said, then before he could turn away she whispered; "thank you."

He never asked whom she was thanking, and Lily wasn't sure she knew herself, but she saw him smile as he walked away. Then she turned back to Harry Potter, her son.


	3. Chapter 3: Mr Hendrick Lucille

A Second Chance

By S.L

Chapter Three: Mr. Hendrick Lucille

James had awoken to a cold bed that morning. The fire had gone out in the grate, there was the cold winter's morning chill in the air and Lily was gone. Their trunks were still lined up at the door, and all of Lily's things were where they should be, so he did not immediately worry.

A quick minutes search found her note pinned on the door, explaining her absence, another late night with Dumbledore. Rather than concerning himself any longer, James decided to start relaxing right then. He started with a quick shower, and then casually he dressed, made himself a cup of tea and made his way up to the Hospital Wing to find his wife.

Then his world had shattered.

Three hours later and James' brain still hadn't managed to catch up.

"He's handsome isn't he, James?" Lily was saying; James was sure it was nearly the tenth time she had commented on his looks, but he wasn't going to say anything.

Instead he managed to nod his head. He hadn't been able to attempt anything more complex than that yet.

"When do you think he'll wake up?" She asked, still staring almost longingly at the man on the bed.

James responded with another one of his shrugs. Mostly he was just drowning his wife out.

Lily seemed to be catching on however; she reached over and clasped one of his hands in her smaller one. "I know James, it's hard to believe, but Dumbledore accepted it. He knew of the spell, in fact he's doing some more back research right now."

Unable to face what was going on, James dropped Lily's hand and ran his fingers through his hair instead. "Its not just hard Lily, hard is an understatement, I mean," he gestured to the man on the bed. "I'm supposed to believe that this is my _son_? If this really is Harry and he really is our son, even if that's true, what are we supposed to do? Why did he come here? Why now? What does he want?" He shook his head and stood up, trying to distance himself from the sleeping man on the bed. He just had so many questions, and it was infuriating how accepting Lily was, she didn't seem to be unnerved in the least.

Lily was silent for a few moments. She reached for one of Harry's hands instead, but she looked over her shoulder to watch James pace. "James, it doesn't matter how hard it is, none of that matters. We have a second chance James. A second chance with him, a second chance at out son, our first son, this is a good thing James you have to remember that. Our son was taken from us and we've been given another opportunity to be together."

James shook his head; things like this didn't just happen. You weren't supposed to have second chances. "It's been twenty years Lily. The Harry we lost was a baby; I could hold him in one hand Lily! This," he gestured to the full grown man stretched out on the bed. "This is a man Lily, not my baby boy. Its not the same thing and you know it. I accepted the death of our son, I've managed to live with it."

He stopped for a minute until the silence became too unbearable. "How do we even know this is the same person? How do we know this is the man our son would have grown up as? It's just not right Lily. How can you cross-worlds? How can you have a second chance? Why him? Why is he the one to come here?"

Lily released Harry's hand and relaxed back in her chair. "James I don't have all the answers. I don't even know if he has the answers. All I know is that this is my son and I don't care how long its been, or what has happened, I'm going to take this opportunity, because James, sometimes you just have to take a chance on things."

"Well spoken Lily," Dumbledore said, slowly entering the room. His eyes met James' and he nodded. "James," he greeted in acknowledgement before he turned back to Lily. "You're absolutely right. Sometimes it is not about what we know; it's not always about the facts. There are times when it's about trust, and about belief and about what is in our hearts." He closed the distance between the door and Harry's bed in a few more steps and then slammed an old dusty book down on the bed and looked expectantly up at the Potters. "Then again," he went on. "In this case, it is about the facts." He looked back down and flipped the book open.

"When I was in my younger days, before settling down at Hogwarts I spent a good deal of my time traveling," Dumbeldore explained as he fixed his spectacles firmly on the end of his nose and brought the book up to a level he would be able to read comfortably. "I was investigating the inventor of the time turner, one Mr. Hendrick Lucille, after a number of his old records were left in my possession. Now, as you know the reason Mr. Lucille even began his investigation into time was due to the death of his young wife. He wanted to find a way to reverse time in order to change the course of events to bring his wife back to life. Of course it is known that when Mr. Lucille did finally discover how to turn back time, he also discovered that you could not dramatically change past events. If his wife had never died, he would never have invented the time turner, thus saving her from her untimely death.

"What is not common knowledge, is that Mr. Lucille discovered something else in his quest as well. When trying to rip the fabric of time during an experiment one day he accidentally ripped the fabric of space." Dumbledore motioned to the book in his hands. "As I said I was investigating Mr. Lucille very thoroughly when I came across this, a most valuable treasure. It is his journal that he used when keeping track of his experiments. In this book are the exact conditions that Mr. Lucille employed during the experiment that took him to another world and what he found there."

Here Dumbledore paused and motioned for James to have a seat and pulled up a chair for himself. "The process involved many things, a potion had to be made, the timing had to be just right and the spell involved two words; _damnari voti_." He paused to clear his throat before continuing. "Mr. Lucille is the only known wizard in existence to ever successfully cross worlds. Though others have sought after a process to bridge the gap, none have been successful.

"In this journal Mr. Lucille writes that he found the second world he entered into to be very much like the one he left. When he used the spell he said it left him very weak and feverish for days, and it took him weeks even to reclaim all of his former magic levels so it gave him ample time to explore his new surroundings. He noticed few differences and believed it to almost be better than the world he left. Though he had originally been afraid of meeting his counterpart he found that he had been brought to a world where he himself had died many years previously. Through this he deduced that the spell that brought him to another world was only able to bring him to one where he himself did not exist in order to maintain balance. Further he writes that he would have stayed in that world, rather than return to this one if it had not been that the wife he was searching for had died in that world as well. The journal does not give us an approximate time of how long Mr. Lucille spent in the polar world, but I guessed that he probably spent about one year there before he recreated the process to use the _damnari voti_ spell again to return here.

"After he returns we know he worked on his time turner for another ten years before becoming successful and after realizing that the time turner was not able to bring his wife back he turned his work over to a trusted friend and told him in confidence that he could not stay in this world any longer. Days later he was reported missing. Now it is my suspicion that after realizing that he was not able to bring his wife back in this world through manipulations in time, he decided to go in search of another world where he would be able to once again reunite with his lost wife."

Dumbledore removed his spectacles and looked at the two Potters. "Obviously this book goes into much more detail than I summarized, but I thought that you two should at least have an overview. Through our questioning of Harry here I suspect that he lived in a parallel world to our own where he befriended my counterpart who led him to this ancient journal. My counterpart taught Harry about this spell and gave him the idea to cross worlds." He gestured to the man on the bed. "This Harry Potter used the _damnari voti_ spell and it brought him to a world where he himself did not exist, here, where he had instead died as a young baby."

James swallowed and took Lily's arm and held it close to him. "So you really believe that he used this spell."

"I must admit I thought about it myself when I first came across the spell, but it runs a great many risks and I believed it to be highly dangerous," he looked down at the bed again. "However I am inclined to believe that this is Harry Potter and that for whatever reason he is the second person in recorded, but little known history to ever cross the boundaries of the worlds."

At this James stood up again and started pacing, removed his glasses and started rubbing his eyes. "I don't know Dumbledore, this is too much to handle."

Lily didn't say anything, she was staring at Harry, and James couldn't even guess at what she was thinking.

"I'm sorry Lily, I've got to go think about this," James told her finally. "I'm sorry Albus, I'll be back later." Not able to even look at either one of them James retreated to the door and out into the Hogwarts corridors.

From there he wandered for some time, he was having a hard time dealing with this, how was he expected to accept his long lost son popping back into existence after living a life in a parallel world? There was a lot more to this than just having a second chance with his son again, despite what Lily said. It couldn't just be that easy.

The halls were empty and cool; most of the students would have left that morning on the Hogwarts Express for the holidays. The few that had remained at school were more than likely out playing in the crisp snow or up in their warm common rooms. It wasn't likely that James would meet anyone wandering down the cold dusty halls.

It wasn't that he hadn't wished for Harry to be alive every day since his death, it was just that when he wished for a second chance with his son, he hadn't been thinking about a grown man. What would Harry act like when he woke up? Would he have already built a relationship with another James out there somewhere? Was James' counterpart someone completely different? Had he raised Harry the same way he himself had raised Bran and Mare?

James tried to search for answers to his questions somewhere in his mind, but he found himself drawing up blanks each time he thought of something new. It was all just too much to absorb so quickly. Willing himself to think harder, James stopped his wandering and found a window to lean against where he could see the lake.

He had barely settled down when he heard someone knock over a suit of armor and start skidding down the hall. Ready to snap at a student for interrupting his thoughts James turned around and was confronted by the sight of his son Bran sliding down the hall, looking anxiously over his shoulder. "Whatever anyone says- especially Snape- I didn't do anything!" He gave his dad a frantic look and ducked into the nearest classroom.

It was just in time too, because the next moment Snape himself came dashing around the corner. "Potter," he hissed, his greasy hair falling over his pale face. "Where is that blasted son of your? This time he's taken it too far!"

James adapted a relaxed expression and leaned casually against the window. "What are you talking about Snape?" he said with a twisted sort of grin. "My son has been with me all morning," but his expression faltered for a moment as he realized that in a strange sort of way this was true. "We were just packing for the holidays, you know Christmas and all that?"

Snape's eyes narrowed and he glanced around the empty hall. "He's here I know it Potter. You know you can cover up for him all you like, but I will be taking this one up with the headmaster."

Smiling, James shrugged his indifference. "I'm sure you will Snape, but do you think you could excuse me? I've got a couple more things to take care of before we get out of here."

Snape turned to leave, but not before shooting James one more hateful sneer, then he was sulking off down the hall again. The second he was around the corner again James turned to face his son with an angry scowl. This was not what he needed right then. "How many times do I have to tell you to be careful around that idiot!" He yelled, running a hand through his hair and flattening it against his forehead. "That man knows when he's been messed with, believe me, we tricked him often enough back in the day."

Bran stepped out of the classroom and rolled his eyes at his dad. "Oh come on dad, where is the fun in life without the adventure?"

Shaking his head James stopped mid thought and eyed his son warily. "I recognize that… that's one of Sirius lines." James looked around the hall, looking for something out of place.

Meanwhile Bran giggled childishly. "I know, I really wasn't lying, I really didn't trick Snape."

"Alright Padfoot where are you?" James called out. If his friend was around here, they maybe he would be able to help him sort through a few things.

"Thank you, thank you," said the man in question as he came sauntering down the hall from his own hiding place, grinning like an idiot child. His robes were disheveled, but his face was a mask of happiness. "It was quite a good effort there Bran boy, but we need to work on your escape route."

James watched as his son and best friend exchanged a handshake and smiled at one another, then he sighed. Though Bran Potter was identical to his dad in looks, his wild streak was pure Sirius Black.

The pair had far too much in common than what was probably safe for Hogwarts. Together the school really was no match for them, especially if when they managed to persuade any of the other Marauders to join them. Briefly James wondered if Harry had taken after the Marauders as well and if he was anything like Bran.

"Hey Padfoot old friend," James said, giving him a welcoming embrace, then he turned back to his son. "Hey Bran, why don't you and Mare head down to Hogsmeade and meet Remus, your mum and I have a few things to take care of with the Headmaster, and Sirius I'd like you to join us if you could."

"Oh come on dad," Bran begged. "Sirius just got here." James shot him a look that clearly told him not to push it and Bran relented. "Fine," he quipped, then with sagging shoulders he sulked off, leaving James and Sirius standing in the corridor alone.

"So what's this about Prongs?" Sirius said as he walked over to James in his odd little canter. He stopped moving, paused and gave James a thoughtful look. "This doesn't have anything to do with You-Know-Who does it?"

Sighing James shook his head, but he ran a hand over his face in an attempt to help him organize his thoughts. He didn't even know where to begin. "No Sirius it doesn't," when James dropped his hand his eyes were watering and he looked at his oldest and dearest friend in complete confusion. "Sirius I don't know what to do."

Smile fading Sirius gave James a heavy look and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Tell me, James," he said.

James looked up at the man who had been like a brother to him and told him everything.

Hours later, and James, though a bit better off for speaking with Sirius, was still unnerved. Sirius, however, after being told the strange circumstances surrounding the sudden appearance of Harry Potter, didn't looked effected at all.

Rather, Sirius was flipping through the journal of Hendrick Lucille, muttering to himself as he reread passages, occasionally shaking his head in wonder and shooting disbelieving glances at Dumbledore and the unconscious Harry.

Jealous of his old friend's instant ability of acceptance, James was lying back with Lily on one of the beds opposite Harry. Of to the side Dumbledore was engaged in a low, whispered conversation with Madam Pomfrey

Things had calmed down a great deal after James had the opportunity to talk with Sirius. His old friend hadn't been able to answer any of his questions of course, but he had done a great deal to calm him down and get him to a more accepting state. To his credit, Sirius had taken it all in his usual stride, not questioning a thing, and just talking James to a point where he could start dealing with what was going on.

Everything was just starting to settle down to a point where James was ready to announce that they all head down to Hogsmeade before it got dark when an owl started attacking the closed window. It was frantic, scratching against the glass and hooting loudly, Dumbledore noticed it first and walked over to it himself to unlatch the window. The owl ignored him and zoomed past onto Sirius' outstretched arm where it them promptly held out his leg.

"That's a Ministry owl," Lily pointed out, sitting up in bed and swinging her legs over the side, all business once more.

Though James was interested to see what the owl was about he figured it was probably something that wouldn't have much to do with him anyways. Sirius was one of the head Auror's for the Ministry of Magic, and owls were unfortunately frequent in sending him reports. Instead James settled back in bed and resumed his blank stare across the room at Harry. He still hadn't gained consciousness, and hadn't moved at all, but as James watched him it almost seemed as if he was tossing back and forth a little bit.

"What does it say?" Lily was asking, hoping out of bed and walking over to where Sirius was unraveling his letter.

"Lily," James said, he wasn't paying attention to Sirius, instead he was sliding out of bed to walk across the room to get a better look at Harry. The closer he seemed to get the more Harry seemed to be moving.

Lily crossed the room faster than he did however, and before he had even made it to the foot of Harry's bed she was already leaning over his face, clutching his cheek in her hand. "He's burning up."

"Its You-Know-Who," Sirius said, crumpling up the note in his palm, and looking over at the both of them. "Apparently there's a troupe of dementors attacking in Cornwall, Moody's team is taking care of it."

James ignored him and leaned over Harry with Lily, not only was he burning up, but his face forehead was covered in blood. Carefully James stuck out a finger to trace the long jagged scar on his forehead, that, though it looked very old, was bleeding as if it was fresh. James straightened up and showed his bloodied fingers to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore and Sirius were standing together at the foot of the bed, both still reeling over the shock of another attack, but they exchanged a look at the blood on James' finger.

Suddenly Harry began moving more violently, tossing back and forth, it was enough to make James jump back away from the bed, but Lily stepped closer and placed her hand firmly in Harry's.

"I think he's having a nightmare," Lily said, giving James a worried look.

"That or a seizure," James heard Sirius say under his breath, but he had the decency to look apologetic when he shot his friend a look.

Then as quickly as he had started shaking Harry froze and lay solidly on the bed. James took another step forward and paused.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" Harry had shot up out of bed in a sitting position, his wand suddenly produced from his sleeve, pointed towards the open window. Dumbeldore and Sirius backed up in alarm as the bright white flash exploded out of the end of Harry's wand and grew into a giant silver stag that galloped down the hall of the hospital wing and leapt out of the window.

Then it was all over, and Harry fell heavily to the bed, groaning loudly and blinking his eyes. A cross between horrified and fascinated, James exchanged a look with Sirius and took another step forward. He leaned over the bed and got his first look at Harry's eyes, they were a bright emerald green, and he looked up and met the same eyes on Lily.

After catching his gaze his wife swallowed and looked down at their son who was lying between them. "Harry?" She said in a hushed voice.

He turned his head, blinking furiously and seemed to meet Lily's eyes, "Mum?" he said, but it was all that he managed before his head fell back down on the pillow and his hands fell back against the bed, unconscious again. The wand fell from his hand and the soft tap it made when it hit the floor echoed through the hospital wing.

For a moment no one dared speak, then slowly, Dumbledore bent down and picked up the wand from his feet and twisted it through his fingers. There was a thoughtful expression on his face.

Another minute or so passed and then a second owl came shooting through the window. James watched as Sirius hesitantly unraveled the new note.

"The attack is over, a patronus cleared all of them out before the Auror's made it." Sirius passed the note to Dumbledore to read. The Headmaster finished and then his gaze turned on James.

James licked his lips, he had somehow found himself the center of attention both Lily and Sirius were staring at him intently.

Finally Sirius broke the silence. "James," he said hesitantly. "I think that was you. I think that was _Prongs_."


	4. Chapter 4: The Expected Awakening

A Second Chance

By S.L

Chapter Four: The Expected Awakening

The atmosphere in the Potter's cottage in Hogsmeade lacked its usual Christmas charm that year. Sirius and Bran weren't running around planning tricks, and there had been no hurried Quidditch games in the backfield, or trips up to Hogwarts to go skating on the lake. Lily hadn't taken the kids out Christmas shopping to Diagon Alley, and there had been no fun visitors, or nights spent over at friends' houses for dinner.

Instead, Lily, James and Sirius had started the holiday by shooing the kids up to bed while they, and Remus, retreated to the kitchen to discuss the new event in very low whispers. They had spent the next few days following the same isolated sort of pattern. Though Lily felt awful about all the late night discussions with her husband and friends, she found that she did little to help the situation. Usually she enjoyed taking the holiday to spend as much time with her children as possible. She got to see them at school of course, but no one really wanted to associate with their parents when they had so many friends about them. Now however, she found that her mind just kept drifting back to the Hospital Wing where her firstborn son lay unconscious in a bed.

James, too, was in a bad sort of way. He was barely speaking to either her or the Marauders, unless he needed to voice another question that usually was unanswerable. Though he liked to be present when Lily talked things over with Remus and Sirius, he seemed to want to spend the rest of his time sitting in the back corner of the kitchen, watching the snow fall on the back porch.

Of course, Sirius was doing his best to pull his friend out of the habit. But even his halfhearted attempts at making his old friend laugh were distracted. Unfortunately, his need to cheer James up and bringing him back to his usual energy level left Bran feeling a bit put out about the whole situation. He had been hoping to spend the majority of the holiday with Sirius, as he was his favorite 'uncle.'

It hadn't been Lily or James' intention to isolate either Bran or Mare for those days, but Lily was forced to admit that they hadn't been very considerate of the kids. The blame, she felt, lay entire with her. It had been her choice not to tell Bran and Mare about their older brother Harry, and now just didn't seem like a good time to bring it up. She couldn't ask them to accept and appreciate something she had yet to grasp herself. She was probably being selfish about the whole situation, she realized later, in wanting to keep Harry to herself, but she rationalized, that she would tell them when things became clearer to the rest of them.

Remus remained the most level headed of them all, as always. He had accepted the news with his usual thoughtfulness, and after voicing his concerns he settled back to wait to see how things would unfold. He listened to Lily and sat with James when he found him gazing absently out the window. Even more importantly, he tried to divide his time between the kids so they wouldn't feel too left out.

Luckily enough, though the kids weren't happy about the tone their holiday had taken, they did not voice their opinions. These were very dark times, and they knew that their family was involved with a secret order to fight against Voldemort. Usually when their parents and their friends were in such a mood it was because there was something unknown going on in the war.

Things didn't change until five days after break had begun, when Dumbledore sent a school owl that disrupted breakfast with a quick note to say their 'visitor' had awoken.

Lily had read the note quickly, after removing it from the barn owl, and passed it wordlessly to James across the table. She saw Bran crane his neck to see if he could make out the words, while Mare offered the owl a few crumbs for her toast. Sirius and Remus exchanged a quick glance.

"We'd better get up to the castle," James said, crumpling the note and putting it in his pocket before Bran could make out the words over his shoulder. He looked over at Sirius expectantly.

"Er- right," Sirius said, reluctantly putting a half eaten piece of toast back on his plate. "I think today would be a good day to stop of at Grimmauld Place and make a quick trip to Diagon Alley," he forced a grin in Mare and Bran's direction. "How does that sound to you guys?"

Mare blinked at Sirius and turned to her mother. "Mum? Are you and Dad going to come?"

"Sorry Mare," Lily said, genuinely sorry that again, she was ignoring her children. Already her heart was pounding at the idea that Harry was awake and waiting for her. All she wanted to do was get up to Hogwarts. "We've got something to take care of with Dumbledore first."

Lily kissed her children goodbye and then went to put on her cloak while James pulled Remus aside and whispered something hurriedly in his ear. He joined her a moment later, running a hand through his messy hair and leading her into the next room. "I'm going to owl Moony when we've learned something more, they'll keep the kids busy until then."

Mutely, Lily nodded, and anxiously waited for James to pull his boots on and fasten his cloak about his shoulders. She knew Remus and Sirius would do a good job of keeping her children distracted.

The trek up to the castle was far too long in Lily's opinion, and all too silent. By now the snowstorm from the night before had stopped, but they still found themselves trudging through a healthy amount of snow. It was slow going, and James wasn't a very responsive companion, but he gripped Lily's hand tightly in his own and kept them moving forward, so Lily assumed he was doing better with the idea of meeting their son, and decided not to press him on the issue.

Dumbledore was waiting for them in the front entrance when they arrived, shaking snow off their boots and leaning tiredly against the front door. He looked more pleased with himself than usual, and his eyes seemed to sparkle their brightest as he moved to greet with the Potters.

"Lily, James, I'm glad you came so quickly, we've been waiting for you," he said, pulling out his wand and casting a drying charm on Lily, who had been trying to shake snow out of her hair.

She gave him a grateful smile, and grabbed James' hand again. "Did he ask for us? How is he? What's he like Albus?" She asked hurriedly. Though his eyes were locked steadily on Dumbledore, James remained quiet.

Dumbledore winked at Lily and then turned, motioning for them to follow. "He woke early this morning actually, and after the initial shock of his whereabouts he's been doing well since. He's currently running Poppy ragged, trying to get out of the Hospital Wing to take a look through Hogwarts. He and I had a brief conversation this morning, but I agreed to wait for you to join us before we continued any further." He shot a look back at Lily and James and smiled widely. "And yes, he did ask for you, it was one of the first things he said when he woke up."

At this James seemed genuinely startled, and pulled his hand back from Lily. "Really? He asked about us?" He said, catching up with Dumbledore and walking level with him.

The headmaster just gave James a smile. "Indeed he did, he seemed very excited about the prospect of speaking with the two of you. He also asked after Sirius, you should know, as well as a few others you might be familiar with."

"Who?" Lily asked, keeping pace with the other two, and drawing up on Dumbledore's other side.

"The Weasley family for one, all nine of them, Remus of course, young Hermione Granger, Sirius, Tonks, and various other members of the Order," his eyes sparkled again at that. "Also, he asked after our own resident Potions Master."

James choked, and missed a step.

"I beg your pardon?" Lily asked flatly; voicing what she knew her husband could not.

Dumbledore turned to her. "Oh yes, he seemed quite concerned about certain members of the staff, though he was more than pleased that everyone was alive and alright."

"Is that so?" Lily asked, unable to pull anything else from her scrambled thoughts, she had too much to think about already.

"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "I told him that you two would be the best to answer the majority of his questions. I thought it would be a good opportunity for the three of you to get to know one another."

They were all silent for a moment, each thinking their own privet thoughts. Then Dumbledore gave James a long look. "James?" he asked, drawing the attention of the younger man. "Do you think you could spare me a quick moment?"

"Huh?" James asked, pulled from his absentminded daze. "Er- yeah sure Albus, now?"

"Yes," Dumbledore drew up short, causing both the Potters to stop mid-step. "Lily would you mind going on by yourself? We'll join you in just a few minutes."

Lily traded a look with James to make sure he was all right with this and nodded once he gave her a reassuring smile. "Of course, Albus."

Almost hesitantly she continued on her way down the hall and up the stairs. True, she was almost desperate now to see her son, but she felt a little anxious about leaving James behind. Now that she was so close to actually speaking with Harry she was nervous.

"Do you have any idea how horrible this tastes?" The laughing voice was carried through the door of the Hospital Wing and echoed down the hall.

Lily stopped up short- that was Harry, she was sure of it. Walking faster now, Lily closed the distance to the door, and hovered in the entryway.

The stranger she had come to recognize as her son Harry was sitting upright in his bed, legs hanging over the side, his back facing the doorway. Poppy was standing in front of him, giggling pleasantly, and accepting an empty vile from Harry.

"Oh hush up Harry, it will help with the residual fever," she said in an unusually good manner. "We must get you back up to top notch health before I'll release you."

"Please Poppy," Harry begged, leaning back on his palms and watching as the medi-witch busied herself with the tray of potions she had placed on the bed next to him. "I promise I'll be a good boy, I won't strain myself or anything."

She shot him a glare and thrust another vial into his face. "This is the last one."

Sighing Harry accepted it and shot it down in one gulp. He shivered and made a gagging sound as he handed it back to Poppy empty. As he did so he turned slightly and caught sight of Lily in the doorway and his smile faded.

It would have been impossible for Lily to explain the series of emotions that crossed Harry's face, but finally he seemed to settle on a blank sort of expression that revealed nothing. "Hello," he said after a moment, lips twitching slightly as if he wanted to smile but was not able to.

Lily started crying right then. It had been one thing to see Harry unconscious. It was quite another to hear his voice, watch him move and see him animated. She saw a piece of James in the way he held himself up on his palms, the way he shifted, obviously uncomfortable with the situation. There was a hint of Bran's casual ease in his posture, and of Mare's attentiveness in the way he watched her expectantly. And when she drew her gaze to her eyes… she saw something of herself.

"Ahem," Poppy cleared her throat and gathered up her tray of empty vials. "Excuse me for a few moments," she said hurriedly. "I think I'll just go ahead and clean these up." Carefully balancing the tray on an outstretched hand Poppy made her hasty retreat back into her office and left the two alone.

Harry coughed and the sound echoed through the room. "The headmaster told me that you already know about who I am and why I'm here," he hesitated. "I'm not sure I really know how to explain…"

Lily pulled herself away from the doorway and took a few steps into the room. "You don't need to explain yet," she said gently smiling. "How are you feeling?"

He gave her a weak smile and shrugged. "Like I've been run over by a hippogriff, but I've felt worse." He held up one of the empty vials that Poppy had left on the bed. "Besides Poppy keeps forcing all these horrible potions on me, so I'm sure I'll be back to normal in no time at all."

"Of course," Lily said, still unsure of how to continue. She took a few steps closer to the bed. "So, um, how long have you been awake now?"

Harry's lips twitched and he swung his body over the other side of the bed so he was facing Lily. "A few hours now. The headmaster and I had a few moments to talk, but otherwise I've been stuck in here." He gave her another weak smile. "I'm afraid Poppy refuses to let me out until I'm deemed healthy again."

"Ah, I see you've have had a moment to get acquainted, then," Dumbledore himself said as he strolled into the room with James on his heels.

Lily turned, let out a breath that she hadn't known she'd been holding and waited for her husband to meet her. Needing his reassuring touch, she reached out for his hand and drew him close to her. Eyes not moving from Harry, James moved close to her and squeezed her hand tightly.

As Dumbledore approached towards Harry, he gave him a genuinely pleased smile, but did not offer any words.

Dumbledore looked from Harry and back to Lily and James and then nodded to himself. "All right, I suppose now that we are all here again we can have a quick chat." He turned to Harry first. "I know that you aren't completely recovered yet, but before we make any decisions I think that there are a few questions that need to be answered."

"Why are you here?" James blurted out, before even Dumbledore had a chance to finish speaking.

All eyes turned to Lily's husband, but James was staring firmly into Harry's own emerald green ones.

"I'm afraid that's a rather complicated answer," Harry said simply.

"We've all made the time to hear it," James retorted, a little too dryly in Lily's opinion.

"I see," Harry said sharply and nodded. Lily's eyes darted between the two of them; this wasn't the way this was supposed to go at all. Or at least it wasn't as she had envisioned it.

"Why don't we all have a seat them?" Dumbledore suggested, drawing up a chair for himself.

James made no move to sit, so Lily stayed at his side, wincing slightly at the pressure he was using on her hand.

"Very well," Harry said after giving them a moment to follow Dumbledore's example and take a seat. Then he sighed heavily and removed his glasses to rub at his eyes. "There is no one real reason. I told the Headmaster this morning," here he nodded to Dumbledore in recognition. "That the Albus Dumbledore in my own world had given me information about the spell that brought me here several years ago. At first I think he meant it to be something for me to think about, only, a reason to keep me going. In the end however, the Headmaster knew that it was a theory that I would need to test. It became necessary for me to attempt the spell, just in case.

"You see," he hesitated, his fingers gripping the sheets of the bed beneath him. "The world I came from was never one that I really- I suppose you could say- _appreciated_. My parents," he inclined his head towards James and Lily, "Died."

Lily let out a sharp intake of breath.

"-when I was just a baby." Harry continued, ignoring Lily. "I didn't even know magic existed until my Hogwarts letter came. As you can imagine, I didn't exactly have a happy childhood- I grew up with the Dursley's," he explained.

"My sister?" Lily gasped, breaking out of her shocked state. She let her husband's hand fall from her side in order to grip her arm. She leaned forward. "Petunia and her horrible husband? You were sent to live with _them_?"

James finally broke his gaze with Harry and looked down at Lily, with a frown on his face. "Vernon you mean? I didn't know his name was Dursley."

"Unfortunately yes," Harry continued. "Of course, once I entered into the wizarding world it was a different story. The first few years were the best I had ever known. Then there was Voldemort."

Harry's audience all bowed their heads in understanding; they knew all too well what kind of effect the Dark Lord could have on just one person.

"I was targeted, and when Voldemort couldn't get at me, he got at everyone I loved. Everyone," he reiterated sharply, then he sighed, shoulders sagging. "Friends, schoolmates, comrades, teachers, pets, anyone who was close to me was in potential danger.

Lily bit her lip, she _wanted_ to ask why he had been targeted, but she wasn't sure it would be appropriate. They barely knew one another.

"I can't tell you what the final straw was. In the end, there seemed to be so many things to cause me to leave that world. I stayed for as long as I could until I finally approached the Headmaster, and reminded him of the information he'd given me years before. It was the right time," Harry licked his lips and looked back at them. "I needed a chance to start over, to regain what I had lost."

Harry paused and cleared his throat and looked down at the hands he had clasped in his laps. "The great wrong done to me that I focused on to activate the spell was that my parents died when I was a baby." The words were soaked up into the slowly approaching silence of the room.

"So you decided to leave your world," James asked, finally speaking. "You came here?"

For a moment it looked like Harry would ignore the question then he looked up and locked eyes with James. "The one thing I've regretted the most, is not getting the chance to know my parents. I focused the spell on that one fact, on that one hope that I would get that second chance. I wished for a moment. An opportunity. I wished for a mistake to be corrected." He waved a hand around indicating the room around them. "Here I am."

The words were soaked up into the silence of the room.

"Look," Harry continued when no one made any move to speak. "I don't really know what I expected, but just the fact that the two of your are alive make all of this worth it." Harry shot them an intense look; one that made Lily want to either dissolve into tears right then, holding her husbands to her, or run to Harry and wrap her arms around him. Instead, she was gripping James' arm so hard she knew there would be bruises. After a minute, Harry broke his gaze with her and looked slowly around the room. "I'm not sure how I'll fit in with this world, or how I can be explained. I don't know if I'll be able to regain the relationships that I had in my own world, or if I'll even be accepted here. I'm taking a chance."

"Oh Harry," Lily sobbed, tears openly streaming down her face now. She dropped her hands on James' arm and took a single step forward.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Harry and I had a few moments to talk this morning, while we waited on your arrival. I've made it clear that no matter how things work out, I will make sure he has a place in this world."

"That won't be necessary," James said in a hard tone. "Harry will stay with us."

Somehow this hardly seemed like the heartwarming gesture the words made it out to be. Lily managed a small, comforting smile for Harry, but found that she had to resist the urge to give her husband a questioning look. For his part, Harry looked uncertain and shot Dumbeldore a quick look.

"I don't expect this to be easy on anyone," Harry said slowly, more slowly. "Though I don't intend to make it more difficult than it already is. I really don't think that you both need to acknowledge me right off, if at all, and I don't want to force you too."

James seemed done with speaking for the moment so Lily slowly pulled her hand out from his and took a few steps forward. "You're right, you took a chance Harry," she said slowly, she didn't want to rush herself. "James and I," she gave her husband a look to make sure that she could speak for the both of them, he was staring at Harry blankly so she found no help there. "Well, James and I want you to be a part of our lives, and we want to get to know you." She stopped for a second so she could compose herself, tears were threatening in her eyes again. "You'll come home with us tonight, and we'll sort things out from there, no one is in any hurry."

Harry cracked the first genuine smile Lily had ever seen on his face, and nodded as if agreeing with her. "Alright, I can live with that, just so long as everyone is sure."

Dumbledore laid a heavy hand on one of Harry's shoulders and sighed, a kind smile on his face. "Well now that we've had our ice breaker, I think it's time we discuss some of the intricacies of this situation."

But, Lily barely heard him. Instead she reached out for one of Harry's hands and held it firmly in the two of hers. He squeezed her fingers gently, but he was looking at Dumbledore. For now, all that mattered, was that she had her son back.


	5. Chapter 5: Making Acquaintances

A Second Chance

By S.L

Chapter Five: Making Acquaintances

Lily had made a fire-call to Sirius ahead of time to make sure that he and Remus kept the kids occupied for the day so that Harry would have a chance to become accustomed to the house without too many distractions. Poppy had told her that Harry was doing very well, but she had stressed the fact that he was not to be over stimulated so soon since his release from the Hospital Wing. Following the medi-witch's orders, Lily had arranged for the rest of the household to stay a big longer in Diagon Alley, so that Harry would have a quiet afternoon. Sirius had seemed a bit reluctant at first, since he was surprisingly anxious to meet Harry and have a chance to speak with him himself, but in the end, he had relented.

James hadn't said a word about the whole situation, which would have worried her if Lily didn't know her husband so well. It usually took him some time to get acquainted to new ideas and new things, and he wasn't the type to express too much of what he was feeling, even with her. However, she knew, that if he needed someone to speak to he would address either her or Sirius when he was ready.

They arrived at the house in Hogsmeade, just a little bit before dinnertime, and after a leisurely walk through the town, which Harry had seemed to enjoy immensely. He hadn't talked much since they had left Dumbledore's office, but the walk seemed to have done him good. He had taken in the sights with a small smile, his eyes darting back and forth as he tried to absorb everything Hogsmeade contained.

It was a beautiful time of year to be in the village, as there were still groups of witches and wizards getting their holiday shopping done and the stores and cottages were adorned with lights and holiday decorations. Harry watched all in with barely any word at all, except when they passed Zonko's where he laughed loudly at a group of playful children who were testing out their new purchases outside the store.

Finally they came upon the Potter cottage, located down the road from the rest of the village with a scattering of a few other cottages that were well spread apart. James led the way with purpose, with Harry following more slowly behind him which left Lily trailing the small group so that she could have a good view of Harry's reaction to their home.

They passed through the little gate without a comment and down the path to the front door. Inside they gathered for a moment to remove their snow-covered boots and shake off their cloaks before hanging them up on the rack. Lily and James did so with familiar ease and then moved on into the den, glad to be home. Harry followed them after a second's hesitation and them joined them in the den and started taking a look around as he went.

"I'm just going to go put a pot of tea on then alright?" James said after Harry had joined him. He smiled tersely and then he quickly retreated into the kitchen.

Harry didn't respond. Instead, he went to examine the family pictures on the crowded mantle. There, the Potter children were portrayed at various stages of their lifetime, at different vacation spots and on birthdays. There were a few pictures of the Marauders gathered together at different events such as Quidditch matches and nights at the local pub, as well as a picture or two of Lily and her good friend Emmeline Vance from back in her school days, which Harry examined with even more attention.

"Mare and Bran's rooms, as well the guest rooms are all on the second floor," Lily offered, gesturing to the staircase that led out of the room and up to the landing. "James and I are on the third floor along with the office we share, and there's also an attic, but we mostly just use it for storage."

Harry pulled his gaze away from the moving pictures reluctantly, but turned to Lily with a smile. "Its very lovely," he said in an uncomfortable little voice, then he looked around again. "Very homey indeed."

Lily glanced around the room and tried to see it from the same point of view Harry was examining it. It was comfortable enough, nothing fancy, though the Potters were well off. A few of Bran's joke supplies were lying around and there were a number of books on the table that were haphazardly spread about. It was homey indeed, and Lily had worked hard to make it that way. Though she didn't get to spend much time in their cottage, she didn't want it to feel unfamiliar either.

"Thank you Harry," she responded, shifting her feet rather nervously. She hated to admit how badly she wanted him to approve of their home, and how much she wanted him to feel that it was his as well. "I have Mare and Bran bunking together for the holiday so that we could move Sirius to Bran's room and give you one of the guest rooms," she added. "It's the second door on the right if you maybe want to go up and get settled?"

He looked back up at the stairs. "Thank you Mum," despite herself Lily warmed at hearing him call her that. "I'll go ahead and do that then."

Lily watched as he retreated up the stairs slowly, so that he could further examine the picture frames that followed the stairway. Rather than wait to see him disappear beyond the landing Lily turned and entered the kitchen instead to see what her husband was up to.

She found him sitting at the kitchen table, a steaming cup of tea in one hand, as he stared absently out the window. He looked up and smiled as she entered the room and kicked out the chair opposite him from underneath the table so she could take a seat.

"Thanks," she told him as she collapsed back into her usual chair with a relaxed sigh. It had been too long since they had been back here, not since summer actually, as she hadn't had enough time to spare on the weekends. Now that Harry was here and she knew all was well, she could finally start to enjoy herself. "Pass me a cup will you, James?"

He poured her a cup, added a lump of sugar and passed it over to her. "Set him up in the spare room then?" James asked, taking a long sip, trying very hard not to look at all interested in his question.

"Yes, Sirius' usual room, the one that overlooks the back garden," she glanced out the window and noticed the snow as it started to fall again. "Well, where the garden usually is," she amended.

James set his cup down firmly and looked down at the table. "I'm sorry Lily, you know I'm happy its just-"

Stretching out a hand, Lily covered his and gave it a squeeze. "I know James, I feel the same way, but," she shrugged. "I guess I'm just trying not to think of all that right now. One day at a time love."\

"What about Bran and Mare?" He responded. "You know we're going to have to start thinking of how to tell them the truth."

Ashamed at the reminder Lily relaxed her grip in James' hand. "I know, but- I just…" She sniffed to avoid becoming teary. "Well, we made the decision not to tell people about Harry back then in case You-Know-Who went after him. Then after he died we made the decision not to tell people we had, had a child in hiding." She knew really that it had been her decision and James had gone along with it, but she couldn't bring herself to say it. It had been her that had been afraid for the child growing inside her, and her who had not wanted the reminder of the child she had lost. Then we she became pregnant with Bran she had wanted to experience it as if it were her first child, like she could start over, she hadn't wanted anyone to pity her for the one she had already lost. "In any case," she continued. "It wouldn't do anyone any good to know who Harry really is. Bran and Mare deserve to know, but I think we need to see how things work out first."

James didn't say anything, and she knew he saw right through her words, like always.

"I just can't James- not yet," she pleaded, avoiding his eyes. She didn't want to know what she would find there, she didn't want to see if he was judging her. "I need to see if it's real for myself first."

"I know Lily," James squeezed her hand gently. "I think we both need some time to accept all of this. Though it might take me a little longer, that's all. It will all work out when all is said and done."

"I know it will," Lily agreed, looking up into his calm eyes. Then she gave him a gentle kiss and headed up to her room to finally finish unpacking the rest of her things.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry had finished exploring his room after a few minutes; it really didn't contain anything interesting. There was just a wardrobe, a four-poster bed, and a comfy chair that sat near the window that overlooked the back yard. He did however take the opportunity to pull out his two trunks from his pocket and return them to their normal size. After doing so he pulled out a few things from his school trunk so that he could take a quick shower and have a change of clothes. The second trunk, the one that was much larger and contained much more important things, Harry made sure was locked tightly before shrinking it down again and storing it in the top drawer of the wardrobe.

The bathroom, he found, was just one door down and the shower did wonders for him. It had and managed to loosen up all the kinks that lying in bed for several days seemed to produce. It also gave him a renewed sense of energy, and reminded him of the sharp hunger pain growing in his stomach, so he dressed quickly, ran a towel through his hopeless hair and bounded down the back stairs which led, he hoped, to the kitchen.

It did lead to the kitchen, he quickly found out. It was a small homey little kitchen with a small nook for a wooden breakfast table. He was pleased to find it didn't look at all like the Dursley's kitchen, which was very modern and full of new gadgets. Nor did it look like the rag tag, ever-busy kitchen from the Burrow. Also it was absolutely nothing like the huge, ancient looking kitchen in Grimmauld Place. Rather it looked almost like an old muggle kitchen, with a few wizard gadgets strewn about the counters, and perfectly comfortable.

"Oh," Harry stopped his quick assessment of the new room when he caught sight of a tired looking James slumped over the wooden table in the corner. "Hello," he continued lamely, pushing his hands deep into his trouser pockets. He wasn't quite sure what to say around his Dad yet, as he seemed to be having a hard time adapting to his presence. It was to be understood though, Harry couldn't expect to be treated like the son he was after suddenly appear twenty years after his supposed death. Merlin knew if he was in his  
Dad's place he'd be a right suspicious bastard of Harry's sudden appearance. As it was, James was reacting in the most reasonable, though not the most convenient, manner.

James looked up as Harry spoke up and nodded in acknowledgement. "I'm afraid the tea's gone cold or I'd offer you a cup," he said rather unenthusiastically.

"Its no problem really," Harry answered and slowly took a seat at the table opposite his Dad. "Listen, if this is going to be too hard, I can go somewhere else. I can always just stay at Hogwarts, or get a room at the Leaky Cauldron or something, I don't want to be an imposition."

Looking almost guilty James' eyes snapped up to meet Harry's. "No, Harry, that's not it," he sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I mean I'm just having a difficult time accepting this," he explained, "but I really am glad that you're here." He stopped and bit his lip intensely. "I really am Harry, I don't want you to think that I'm not, this means so… so much to me, it really does."

Harry nodded, and leaned back in his chair, it was better to just let James get everything out.

"I guess," James, continued, "I guess I still don't get why you're here really."

For a moment Harry didn't dare say anything, instead he fidgeted with his hands until his thoughts were composed. "Do you know what the Mirror of Erised is?" He said finally, as he locked his fingers together on the table and looked up to stare his father in the eye.

James blinked. That was obviously not the type of answer he was expecting. "Yes I've heard of it, I recall Dumbledore saying something about it a few years back."

At that Harry smiled and nodded. "Yes, Dumbledore is very familiar with it. Actually my first year at Hogwarts he knew," he blushed a little, but did not look away from James. "Well, he knew I was having a little bit of a hard time with things. He had um," his cheeks darkened again. "He had given me your old cloak that Christmas and I had been using it to explore the castle."

James actually leaned forward a bit at that, seemingly warming up. "My invisibility cloak?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed, releasing some of the pressure his was putting on his fingers as he clasped them firmly together. There was no reason to be so nervous really, he just didn't want to mess things up. "That's the one. Anyways like I said I used it to explore the castle, and one night I found myself in front of the Mirror of Erised," Harry sighed wistfully as he remembered his early days at the castle. Then the simplest of had been an adventure, that was before he knew what adventure really was, and that it was not always something to be welcomed.

"I returned several times after finding it, of course, the mirror it was amazing and I couldn't get enough of it." Harry gave his Dad a searching look, trying to make sure he understood. "When you look into the mirror it shows you your deepest desire, and mine-" he sighed, trailing off. He could see the raw curiosity in James' eyes. It caught him for a moment before he cleared his throat, resolved to continue. "Well, eventually Dumbledore caught on, and found me sitting in front of the mirror one night. In all honesty I think that is really where he got the idea to tell me about the _Damnari Voti_ spell. He knew how badly I wanted what was in that mirror; he knew how it drove me.

"It had to come to an end of course," Harry finished. "Dumbledore moved the mirror the next day so I wouldn't be driven to waste my nights away in front of it," he shook his head, and pushed the long hair out of his eyes so he could look at James again. "I never forgot what I saw in that mirror, and neither did Dumbledore. I knew I had to come here, because this was the life I wanted for myself, the life I envisioned when I first looked upon myself in the Mirror of Erised. My greatest desire."

Blinking, James removed his glasses and placed them on the table between them, and then he looked back up at Harry. "What did you see in the mirror Harry?"

Harry smiled. "You," he answered simply. "My Mum, and all the rest of my family." He looked down a little embarrassed. "The one thing that has been denied to me my entire life," he shrugged it off and looked back at James and was surprised to see that his Dad's eyes looked a little glassy. "I've had my chance at money, success, talent, and the rest. All I've ever really wanted was a family, the one thing no one could ever really give me. That's all."

A tense silence fell between the two, and eventually their locked gazes broke off. James reached for his glasses again and wiped them off on his shirt. "So," James said after he had replaced his glasses on his face. He drew the silence out, trying to figure out how to respond to this. Then he cracked a smile, "how is my old cloak doing?"

Grinning, Harry relaxed a bit more. At least now his Dad was willing to talk to him. "Not to shabby," he answered. "I can tell you it's gotten me out of more than a few detentions."

"Yeah," James responded, running a hand through his hair. "I remember how angry I was at Sirius when he left it in the Astronomy Tower. You know, I had almost forgotten all about it until now. I think Dumbledore may still be holding it in his office to this day. I certainly haven't seen it since then."

"No?" Harry asked. "You haven't wanted it in all these years?"

Snorting James shook his head. "And let it fall into Bran's hands? I'm surprised Dumbledore trusted you to have it as it is. I can't imagine him giving it to troublemaking first years anymore."

"He's a real troublemaker then?" Harry asked.

He had been wanting to hear a bit more about his brother and sister, but unfortunately their existence was slightly overshadowed by that of all the others Harry had been longing to see. He had never considered the fact that he could have siblings; he had never hoped to discover anyone more than his parents in this world. Of course he was pleased that he did have a big family, it was something he had always envied the Weasley's for.

However, being a brother, he suspected, was something that grew through years of companionship. He never really expected that he would have the type of relationship, say Ron and Ginny had had. They had old stories from their childhood to relate back to, they had that way of bickering about practiced arguments, and the way they innately related to one another about certain things. Ginny had been ever critical of Ron's repeatedly awkward approaches to relationships and he had been able to play the part of the horribly over protective big brother.

Just because he had a little brother and sister now, Harry didn't think he was allowed to just step into the practiced role. He wouldn't have the kind of relationship that the Weasley brothers and one sister had. Theirs would always be kind of distant, after all they were only meeting one another when Harry was in his twenties and they were in their teens. He couldn't expect to play the stern older brother to Mare, or the cool, knowledgeable older brother to Bran like Charlie was to his younger siblings.

"Like you wouldn't believe," James gave a distracted sort of half smile. "I swear he's almost worse than the Marauders were, but thankfully he doesn't have our resources."

Harry snorted. Resources, the Marauders had had. The most brilliant wizards in the school, an invisibility cloak, a magical map and the ability to turn into an animal at will? Those ideal conditions were unlikely to ever fall into place again. The Weasley twins had come to a close second with the help of their joke products and the Marauder's old map, but even they hadn't managed to match their predecessor's success.

"That," Harry agreed. "Would be dangerous. The Weasley twins are out of school though right?"

"Thankfully, Bran practically hero-worshipped them, almost more than he worships Sirius."

Harry's attention sharpened at the name of his godfather. "He worships Sirius then?"

"Yeah," James continued, relaxing even more into their conversation. He didn't even seem to notice Harry's strained tone. "I swear I think they speak more than Sirius and I at this point."

"So um," Harry pulled his hands off the table and rubbed his palms against his legs anxiously. "I heard mention that Sirius was here for the holiday? Any idea on when he'd be returning?"

James gave Harry a sharp look, finally noticing the not so subtle strain in Harry's voice. "Sometime after dinner I expect," he said slowly, trying to see if Harry would reveal why this was so important. "Lily asked them not to be back until after dark at least, we didn't think you'd want all the excitement. Poppy did leave us specific instructions for you to rest."

Wincing Harry leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, trying to push Sirius to the back of his mind. "Poppy is a very skilled medi-witch and I know she means well, but I think that you and I both know that her treatment can get a little carried away at times."

"Don't I know it," James agreed. "I thank the gods I'm a teacher now and can escape her clutches with relative ease. Merlin forbid anything actually happens to a student, and they find themselves on bed rest for a week, forced to slurp down some of Snape's most wicked concoctions."

Harry laughed; the picture was all too familiar for him. After all, he had spent more than then his fair share of time cooped up in the hospital wing than most students. "I know, I remember when I broke my arm in a Quidditch match, she had me there for days for observation."

"Quidditch?" James perked up. Harry smiled; he seemed to have stumbled upon the right middle ground for the two of them. "Did you play on the house team?"

"Seeker," Harry declared proudly. "Youngest in more than hundred years actually," he couldn't resist adding. Normally he didn't like to brag, but this was Quidditch.

James' jaw nearly dropped. "You're kidding! That means you would have made the team your first year!"

Lip's twitching into a smile, Harry nodded. "Yeah, I was actually just lucky I made the team, I could just have easily been expelled." He then went on to recount the story of how he had taken his first flight on a broom, against the rules, right in front of McGonagall. "I thought she was furious with me," Harry went on. "It turned out, that she didn't care what I had done, as long as I promised to do my best to get the Quidditch cups out of Snape and Slytherin's hands."

At that James laughed and slapped his knee. "They still fight every year about that, neither one of them can stand seeing the other win! I swear the house rivalry between the staff is almost nearly as bad as with the students."

"I wouldn't doubt it," Harry agreed. He could remember a few times when he had witnessed this at first hand. After his days of a student had firmly passed of course. The professors rarely revealed their quarrelsome selves in front of the student body when they could save it for the staff room.

"Seeker then," James repeated to himself with a slight shake of his head. "I always wanted the kids to take more of an interest in Quidditch, but," he shrugged to himself. "Bran tried out for the team his third year, though I know he wasn't very interested in it, and he didn't make it anyways. Mare is just absolutely hopeless, even if she's not at all bad. Still, it takes all of our powers of persuasion just to get her into a family game every once in a while." James' eyes lit up and leaned across the table again. Harry had noticed that his dad had become much more animated since they had started talking about Quidditch. "Any chance you made captain?"

Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Harry waved his hand. "No question, sixth year," this seemed to make James very happy indeed, and this time he got up from the table and busied himself with making another pot of tea.

"How do you like that," he said to himself. "First year seeker, incredible."

"What's incredible darling?" Lily asked as she glided down the stairs and landed with a thump in the kitchen. Her gaze was immediately drawn to Harry, who she smiled at warmly, then it darted approvingly back to her husband.

Harry suspected that she was pleased they were getting along. On the walk over to the house he had noticed that she had been giving James strained sort of looks.

"Harry," James said, keeping his eyes on the tea as it poured from the pot into a new cup for Harry. "He became seeker his first year at Hogwarts."

"How wonderful," Lily said, walking over to Harry and giving him a gently pat on the back, she turned back to James. "Leave it to you to get worked up over Quidditch.

Just then there was a rather large '_bang_' as, what Harry assumed was the front door, hit against the front wall and several feet started stomping snow off boots. Lily turned her attention to the door and left briefly to greet the newcomers.

James just looked up at the clock that hung on the wall above the pantry and sighed. "Earlier than expected, oh well," he turned and faced Harry, a small smile appearing on his face. He rubbed a hand through his hair, causing it to stick out in all directions. "Up for a few more introductions?"

Unable to do anything else, Harry nodded. He hated to admit it, but as much as he had wanted to see his parents, seeing Sirius alive again meant so much more. After all he had had time to develop a relationship with Sirius, had known and loved him as family for the better part of two years and two years of having someone he loved in his life was a long time for Harry Potter. Of course he was anxious to meet his brother and sister, also to see Remus Lupin again, but Sirius somehow managed to overshadow them all.

Swallowing awkwardly Harry accepted the cup of tea from James and tried to occupy himself by taking small, measured sips. He could hear his Mum's voice outside the door, as well as the muffled cries of several others, and though he couldn't quite distinguish words, he knew he didn't recognize Sirius' tone at all.

"-at Honeydukes," Harry heard Remus say as he pushed open the door into the kitchen and looked around for someone, him, Harry assumed since his eyes glazed past James.

Ignoring the direction of Remus' stare, James immediately strode forward and gave his old friend a one armed hug, offering him a cup of tea with the other. Remus accepted the offering with a smile and then turned back to face Harry. "Well, you must be Harry then," he said.

Harry stood up so that he could get a good look at his old friend. Remus and him had never been as close as Sirius and him, but he had loved the man in his own way. Though in reality, he had never quite been able to shake looking at him as a professor, since it was under those circumstances that they had first met. Also, Remus was a much more private man than Sirius had been, but he had always been kind to Harry and had always encouraged him in all of his endeavors.

This Remus looked better than the one Harry remembered. He stood a bit straighter, and his robes were of a better quality, and he looked as if he might have a bit more weight on him than Harry remembered. Harry devoutly hoped that Remus had someone to take care of him in this world. Perhaps Tonks had managed to get her hands on him sooner than she had in Harry's world. Though since Harry had not heard mention of Tonk's joining them for the holidays, and Remus was here alone he wasn't so sure.

"Its nice to see you," Harry said, giving Remus a smile. This meeting was somewhat stranger than all of his others had been. With his Mum and Dad he had been meeting perfect strangers, and with Dumbledore he had been meeting someone who he had known as being long dead. Remus would be a different story as Remus was one of the few surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix, and one of Harry's few surviving friends from the war. In fact Harry had seen Remus only a week before deciding to use the spell to bring him here, as he had wanted to make his final goodbyes. He hadn't told Remus what he had planed of course, but he couldn't leave without at least knowing that Remus wouldn't worry about him. The poor man felt that since he was the last of Marauders, and the last of his father's old friends that it was ultimately his responsibility to make sure Harry didn't befall any harm.

Remus only had time to blink before he was rather roughly pushed aside by the door swinging open again and admitting two fighting teenagers into the room.

"Did not," the girl was saying, pushing her brother with her elbow. "You just lost it is all. What would I want with your stupid letter anyways?"

The teenage boy pushed her back. "What do I know, but you can't-"

"Bran!" James rushed forward and tore the two apart, pushing the girl into Remus' arms and pulling the slightly older boy into his own. "Enough of this, haven't I asked you two a thousand times to stop fighting? Consider this matter dropped for now, the both of you," Harry watched as James glanced sharply between the two teenagers, obviously giving a well-practiced warning. Both the girl and the boy glared resentfully at one another, but nodded reluctantly in the end. Remus and James both released their charges who immediately glared and made angry faces at one another.

Sighing hopelessly James turned and motioned to Harry. "Kids, I want you to meet your cousin Harry, he's going to be living with us now, and you two are to both behave _politely_!" He glared back at both of them again; who were sulking now and looked as if the last thing they wanted to do was to be forced to allow someone new into the house. "Harry, this is Bran and this is Mare."

Harry smiled at them both, though neither really seemed to be looking at him; instead they were continuing to make faces behind his Dad's back. Harry resisted the urge to chuckle at this. It was just like the Weasley children used to act, and strangely enough their quarreling made him feel all the more at home. "Hello, its very nice to meet you," he said politely.

"Yeah sure," Bran said, giving him a quick glance, then he looked back at James. "I'll be in my room, call me when dinner's ready." Then without any further notice he bound up the back stair and disappeared.

James sighed in frustration and shook his head as Mare strode up to Harry. "Well I am glad to meet you," she said shaking Harry's hand rather seriously for a fourteen-year-old girl.

Harry returned the handshake, shooting his Dad an amused look over her head. She was quite short, very petite, and obviously had his Mum's wild red hair. "Thank you Mare," he responded when he dropped his hand and settled herself stiffly at the table.

"I will apologies for my brother and myself, I'm afraid you haven't caught the both of us at our best," she poured herself a cup of tea and turned around and examined Harry, who couldn't resist staring at her peculiarly. Strangely enough he was strongly reminded of a female version of Percy Weasley. "I hope you'll excuse our behavior, as I'm sure we'll have plenty of time over the break to become acquainted."

"Er- right," Harry admitted and then shot another perplexed look to Remus and his Dad, both were trying hard not to laugh and were rolling their eyes at one another. Apparently Mare Potter was being quite serious indeed.

"So where's Sirius?" James finally asked, and Harry felt his heart leap again, his eyes darted quickly to Remus to hear his answer.

Remus motioned back towards the door. "Oh he stopped off at Honeydukes for some desert, Lily went after him to get him back before he bought out half the store, he'll be by in a minute," he said and took a long sip of the tea James had offered him. "Its freezing out there you know," he was looking at Harry though, and Harry resisted the urge to squirm under the gaze. "So Harry, how are you holding up?" He asked, polite as always.

Harry shrugged. "As well as can be expected I should say, though I still feel a bit light headed."

"Why, Harry are you ill?" Mare asked in a dry tone, she was rummaging through the paper that was still sitting on the kitchen table, looking for a certain section.

Harry was saved having to answer as a rather forceful '_boom_' shook the whole house. James and Remus turned and grinned at one another, "Sirius' is back," James said simply before he opened the door just in time for a large black dog to come racing in the room and skid across the floor until he nearly crashed into the oven. With a large '_pop_' Sirius Black transformed back into a man and stood up laughing.

"You should have seen your wife's face when that snowball hit her, James," he said as he dusted a bit of snow from his robes. "Absolutely priceless she-"

But Harry never found out why Lily's face was so priceless, he had crossed the distance between himself and Sirius in a few quick paces and flung his arms around the older man's neck. "I'm so sorry Sirius," he said loud enough that he was sure the whole room must have heard him, though that had not been his intention. "I missed you so much."

Hesitantly Sirius returned the impromptu hug and patted Harry on the back. "Er- yeah mate, me too," he added rather awkwardly and then Harry remembered himself and pulled apart.

He hadn't been thinking, he shouldn't have done that. Harry blinked furiously to keep his eyes from watering, ran a hand through his hair and looked around the room until he met the concerned gaze of his father. "Um, I'm sorry about that," Harry said as soon as he was sure he could trust his voice. "You know what," he said hurriedly. "On second thought, I think I am still feeling a bit under the weather. I'm going to have to skip dinner for now and head up to bed early."

Then, trying very hard not to meet the gaze of anyone, Harry retreated to the upstairs, though he felt the stares of four pairs of eyes burning into his back.

He was just turning around the landing when he heard Sirius' voice ring out again. "So what's for dinner then?"

Harry paused and swallowed, leaning up against the wall on the landing and trying to regain composure before he took another step. Then he took another deep breath and darted back to his new room. Hopefully he would have a better control over things in the morning.


	6. Chapter 6: A Brief Break From Reality

A Second Chance

By S.L

Chapter Six: A Brief Break From Reality

Dinner had been quite an uncomfortable affair.

The kids had been arguing again and something seemed to have passed between the Marauders, but Lily didn't get the full story until after dinner. Then Bran and Mare had both retreated upstairs to argue a bit more and sulk in their respective rooms so the remaining four adults had the opportunity to sit and talk about the Harry situation without being interrupted. They had stayed up late into the night, but Lily was just pleased that James seemed to be warming up to the idea of having his son in his life again. He had put his own thoughts into the conversation for the first time, and had not been the most hesitant one at the table. She hoped that the conversation that he and Harry had held earlier that night had done them both some good.

In the end it became a late night and no one saw any sign of Harry, he appeared to have done exactly as he had said he would and gone to sleep. Lily had been unable to resist checking to see if the light in his room was out on her way up to bed and had fought off the urge to wake him up, just to make sure he was still there. He was still ill after all, she had to remember that, and Poppy had been very firm about telling her how much sleep he still needed.

The next morning she woke at her usual early hour around eight o'clock and left James sleeping next to her with the idea that she might cook breakfast. Since her husband didn't have to wake up for classes she knew that she was unlikely to see him out of bed for a few more hours at least. So, Lily dressed quickly and made her way down the stairs, and found herself quite surprised at the sight that met her in the kitchen.

Usually she was the first awake in the Potter household as both her husband and children preferred late starts, but this morning she found Harry and Remus sitting at the kitchen deep in conversation, and even more surprising was that breakfast was already made and spread out across the table.

"Good morning boys," Lily greeted as she took in the sight. "I was just about to make breakfast, but I see you beat me to it."

Remus turned around in his chair to face her and gave her a bland look. "You? Cook breakfast? Come on and be serious Lily."

She blushed and gave her old friend a furious look. "I can make scrambled eggs you know, and I know how to toast bread." Actually she had been hoping that she could impress Harry. Her mother had always woken her up in the morning by the smell of a delicious breakfast on the stove. She knew she wasn't the best chef, but she could still manage that at least.

Remus turned back to Harry and smiled while Lily took a seat. "Lily is probably the most horrid cook I know, if she ever offers to bake you anything- refuse. I think I'd rather have one of Hagrid's rock cakes than anything she has to offer."

Lily pulled a plate towards her and started grabbing for the bacon, managing to elbow Remus in the side, not so subtly, as she reached across. "Shut up Remus, who made all this anyways?"

"I'm afraid that would be me," Harry said, a little bashfully. "I hope you don't mind me rummaging through the kitchen, but it took me a while to find everything."

Lily looked up at him as she broke off a piece of the crisp bacon. She loved bacon, but she could never get it quite this crisp. Hers, unfortunately, always turned out chew or fatty, and even Sirius' being the human trashcan that he was, usually refused to eat it. "Of course not Harry, please feel at home. Though I have to admit I didn't expect anyone to be awake so early."

Remus snorted, and grabbed a piece of bacon off Lily's plate before she could take it all. "Yes well, we know Sirius and James won't roll out of bed until noon at least. Harry's cooking woke me up actually, it was the bacon," he said and raised his piece before taking a big bite. "Fantastic," he said as he chewed.

"Where did you learn to cook Harry?" Lily said, adding a few spoonfuls of eggs to her plate as well, followed by a slice of toast. "God knows no one else in this family can."

Harry gave her a little smile and took a sip of his orange juice. "Childhood habit, I'm afraid," he said. "Aunt Petunia woke me up every morning at seven A.M. sharp to make breakfast so she could get Dudley ready for school."

At the mention of the Dursley's Lily's felt her face turn quite pale and she lowered the fork she had been bringing up to her mouth. The mere thought of one of her children growing up in the same house as those people made her stomach churn. "I am so sorry Harry, I can't believe-"

Chuckling Harry held up his hand to keep her from going on any further. "Stop that, there's no reason to apologize, you can't have helped what happened. Besides the Dursley's did at least teach me how to cook a proper meal," he gestured at the food spread out on the table as an example then motioned for her to continue eating. "I wasn't trying to make you feel bad."

"I never did meet your sister Lily," Remus said, stealing another piece of bacon off her plate, she shot him a look, but continued eating.

"Then you're lucky," Harry told him, giving a small shutter. "Though as horrible as she is, she's nothing compared to Uncle Vernon and his sister." This time he winced and put his glass of orange juice back on the table. "And absolutely nothing is worse than Dudley."

Lily opened her mouth to apologize to Harry again, but he shook his head firmly at her and grabbed the empty plate she had stolen the bacon from and stood up.

"Don't say anything about it," Harry said. "Really, they were horrible people, but they served their purpose, and I don't have to have anything more to do with them do I?" He made his way back to the stove and started rummaging around. "I'll just cook up some more bacon then shall I? So you two don't fight anymore?"

Remus and Lily looked at Harry's back guiltily, Remus had been sneaking another piece off Lily's plate and she had knocked his hand away. "Thanks Harry," she said, sticking her tongue out at Remus playfully. "That would be lovely."

She returned to her food and started thinking about her sister; really she hadn't given a thought to her in years. She hadn't even seen Petunia or Vernon since their wedding, and she had never in fact met Dudley. Though she knew they weren't the type of people who would be comfortable raising a magical son. Her children didn't even know they had an Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, and hearing Harry call them so, was rather revolting to her.

"Harry and I were just discussing the validity of the Daily Prophet before you came in, he is quite well informed," Remus told Lily as he poured himself another cup of orange juice from the pitcher off the table. Lily looked at it slightly dumbfounded, the pitcher had been a wedding gift and she was sure that they had never used it, and they had never had a pitcher of fresh juice on the breakfast table before.

"Really?" She said once she had finished chewing.

Harry turned back to them, he was holding a spatula in one hand, and the bacon was already sizzling nicely, making Lily's mouth water all the more. "Yes," he said with a slight wince. "I unfortunately was forced to make the acquaintance of a few of the staff writers for the Prophet."

"Really?" Lily asked again. "I've always found their translations of Wiggleswade's information rather skewed. Though I don't suppose much of what the Prophet has to say is credible these days."

"The Ministry has far too much influence on what they publish," Harry said firmly, turning back to the stove. "Unfortunately the Prophet really doesn't have any competition. It's a pity really that the information that the majority of wizards and witches in Britain are getting on a daily basis is generally dead wrong. Its all rubbish propaganda really." He shook the pan and Lily heard the bacon sizzle.

Remus shrugged and leaned back in his chair so he could see how far along Harry was with the new stack of bacon, he was already pulling the pieces out of the pan and laying them flat on a towel to soak up the remaining grease. "It's a pity, but there isn't much else out there that is even creditable, I mean you don't get much accurate information out of the Quibbler!"

Surprisingly enough Harry actually snorted at that, and had to catch himself against the counter before putting the pan back on the stove. "Yes well," he said and turned around, offering the plate to Remus to put on the table. "There's that. Carefully," he added. "It's still hot."

Remus snatched up the first few pieces, despite the hot grease, and Lily followed suit, sticking her fingers in her mouth when she was done to stop the sharp burn. Harry regarded them both with an arched eyebrow and Lily then realized how silly the two of them must look. Fancy the two adults sitting at the table while Harry, the one who was completely unfamiliar to the house, was cooking for them both!

Harry returned to his seat and glanced out the window at the snow-covered garden. Lily noted that it was James' usual seat, and then followed his gaze and stared at the sight for a moment. It was quite beautiful, but what was on the table was much more interesting at the moment, so she settled on returning to her meal. Already she was starting to feel full.

"I hope you can cook more than breakfast Harry," Remus said, dusting his hands off on a napkin, finally having his full share of bacon. Lily decided to snatch another piece anyways, before he changed his mind. "Otherwise we're in for a sorry holiday," he gave Lily a teasing look.

"I'm not bad," Harry admitted, returning his attention to the table. "Like I said, the Dursley's thought I had to make myself useful if I was going to live in their house." This time Lily resisted the urge to say anything and took a sip of Remus' orange juice instead as she hadn't poured herself a glass yet.

Remus chuckled. "Well that's good to hear, because Lily here is a poor cook herself, though she will try to feed you some of her more horrid concoctions if she gets left alone in the kitchen for very long."

Lily grumbled and slammed his glass down with a little more force than necessary. "I don't understand why I'm so horrible, I mean I do _try_."

Seeming to take some sympathy on her Remus gave her a sorry look. "Yes you do Lily, and no one can blame you for that."

She shook her head. "I don't understand, I mean I'm fantastic at brewing potions, but in the kitchen," she shook her head woefully. "I think I'm better left in a laboratory."

Harry laughed at that and shook his head. "Well then for what it's worth, what little skill I have in the kitchen absolutely disappears when I'm in front of a cauldron. I'm rubbish in potions."

The three of them explored the topic of potions in relation to cooking for a while until the kids woke up when Harry stood up again to whip something up for them. Though as Lily and Remus had expected it wasn't until nearly lunchtime that the remaining Marauders found their way down to the kitchen to find Harry starting on some chicken salad for some of the sandwiches for lunch.

"Ham and cheese, or chicken salad?" Harry had asked each in turn as they made their way down the stairs.

Sirius, being the last, had given Harry a strange look when he had been faced with the question. "Can I have both?" He said finally, obviously still partially asleep, and then he settled down at the table between James and Remus.

Lily was trying to help Harry out the best she could, by cutting the tomatoes; that at least she could manage. "We've just found out that Harry has skills in the kitchen that the rest of the Potter family can only dream about," Lily told Sirius as rubbed tiredly at his eyes.

"I find it very amusing you think so," Harry added, he was separating slices of ham and placing them on the open faced bread before him. "So far I've made eggs, bacon and sandwiches and that's all it's taken to impress you. You know," he said giving her a lopsided grin that reminded her strongly of James. "I really don't think being able to put that together makes me a chef."

James was shaking his head at the table. "Mate if you have ever tasted one of mine or Lily's meals then you'd know you're dead wrong."

From there the conversation at the table had spread to an upcoming Quidditch game and Harry and Lily worked next to one another to finish up lunch. It wasn't until Lily had called the kids in from the den and they were all settled at the table that they began discussing what they were going to do that day.

Lily was convinced that Harry shouldn't strain himself, so she immediately shot down Sirius' suggestion that they make their way to Hogwart's Quidditch pitch and try to get a game going. Bran's suggestion of a trip to play another prank on Snape she found equally dissatisfying.

"I want you boys to get out and clear the path to the gate at least," Lily told them and was met with a chorus of groans. Whenever Sirius and Remus were over she often felt as if she had four sons not one, mentally she corrected herself and changed that phrase to _five_ sons, not _two_. "It snowed again last night, and I'd rather not go trudging through ice whenever we go anywhere if necessary. A path to the village at least should do it."

Thirty minutes after that found the whole group out front, Harry included, to Lily's dismay. She had argued that she hadn't meant for Harry to do the work, he was still recovering after all. He had protested however, and he was out with his wand, melting the ice with the rest. Bran and Mare of course were not of age and could not use magic outside of Hogwarts, so they each had shovels that James had conjured for them and were picking away at the stairs, snipping at one another every time they came too close to the other.

Despite the use of magic, the work was still slow going. The four adults and Harry all had their wands out melting the walk, but the ice was thick and it took longer than usual.

James and Lily were working on the section closest to the house and she had been glad to see Sirius and Harry working on the farthest section, conversing in low tones. Sirius had told her about what had occurred last night, and though she knew Sirius would dismiss it with ease, she wasn't sure how Harry would handle the slip. She was surprised as much as Sirius with the reaction. So far, other than his greeting to Sirius, Harry had been able to handle himself with a certain amount of composure. He had seemed hesitant in his introduction to James and herself, and to Dumbledore he had been respectful and in slight awe.

It was just when Lily was taking a break and leaning against her husband for warmth when she saw the large snow white owl they had thought was wild swoop down from the sky and perch on Harry's outstretched arm. Seeing this Lily abandoned James and let him continue his discussion with Remus about what Christmas gift they had picked out for Sirius, and headed towards her son.

When she reached Sirius and Harry it was to find Harry stroking the owl's feathers with a look of pure fascination on his face. He spotted her as she approached and gave her a sort of unbelievable stare. "Look, its Hedwig," he said, returning his attention to the bird.

"How did you get her to come to you?" Lily asked incredulously, when Harry didn't answer she looked at Sirius who was stroking his chin thoughtfully.

He caught her looking at him and shrugged. "He didn't, she just came out of the sky and surprised us both."

"She was my owl," Harry said in a small, fascinated sort of voice. "I got her when I was eleven, on my first visit to Diagon Alley. She was my birthday present from Hagrid." He continued to stroke her feathers, and the owl hooted with pleasure.

Lily stared at the bird with disbelief. "We thought she was a wild, she's lived in the backyard for years. I remember Bran and Mare used to spend ages trying to catch and tame her when they were little, but she never fell for anything."

Sirius gave her a meaningful glance. "She came right to Harry, Lily," he said. "Didn't even hesitate," he shook his head. "I remember trying to help the kids out one year, she nearly took my eye out with those claws!" As if to prove his point he reached out and stroked the owl's feathers and wasn't given the slightest reaction for doing so, the owl merely gave Sirius a wide-eyed stare. "Now look!"

"She's the most intelligent owl ever," Harry said very firmly. "Aren't you girl?" The owl cooed gratefully and shuffled its feet on Harry's arm.

"I don't' believe it," James said, striding up with the rest of the group in tow. "Is that that crazy wild thing from the back?"

Mare pushed around her father and laughed. "How'd you do that Harry?"

Harry was still smiling in shock; he didn't even pull his gaze away from the owl when he answered. "I don't know, I guess she was just waiting for me."

"Incredible," Remus said, making his way into the circle. "See Sirius," he said accusingly. "I told you owls were smarter than they looked."

Sirius shrugged. "Hey mate your right, I just thought they were a bunch of dumb birds."

To Lily's delight, the owl Harry kept calling Hedwig, made to peck at Sirius before Harry pulled her away.

"Alright then Harry," James said. "I guess I should get you one of the extra cages from the attic so you can keep her."

Lily watched as her husband and son retreated back inside, then she looked over the remainder of the group. "Alright guys back to work, maybe we can go to the Three Broomsticks for dinner if we finish up quick."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Even several days later and Harry still couldn't believe that Hedwig had somehow found her way back into his life. Not even he would have thought that somehow she would have remained a free bird, living just in the Potter's back yard. Then again, he had always known that she was particularly intelligent, even for an owl.

Like many of the things that Harry had valued in his life, Hedwig had not made it through the war. She had been shot down by a stunning curse, trying to deliver a letter to Hogwarts when Harry had been abroad. A Death Eater had been attempting to intercede his correspondence with Ron in order to determine his whereabouts. Fortunately they had not been able to determine anything from the letter, other than Harry missed his friend, but Hedwig had not survived the fall from the sky. Harry had to find out about her death through a message delivered by Ron's owl Pig.

Harry hadn't taken to losing his most steady companion. She had been the only one who had shared the long and lonely hours at the Dursley's with him, and later the laborious time on the road. Now, it was as if nothing had changed. She seemed to be just the constant companion she had always been.

After that time at the Potter cottage passed very quickly for Harry. Since Bran and Mare were around the majority of the time Harry found that he didn't have to explain much of anything about his world. James, Lily, Sirius and Remus, though they knew the truth, were unable to ask any more probing questions about why he was there, and what he had done in the past, or what his world was like. Instead everyone seemed quite content just to get to know one another. However, Harry had a sneaking suspicion that each were trying to catch him alone whenever possible, and he found himself almost constantly engaged in a conversation with someone.

Since Harry didn't sleep much he found himself settling into the routine of waking up early in the morning and cooking breakfast until Remus made his way down. They would talk about whatever was on Remus' mind until the smell of bacon would call Lily down to join them. After that it usually wasn't long until the rest of the house was up. Once Sirius and James discovered that they could have breakfast if they woke up a few hours earlier they started doing so.

After that the household would usually split up. A few times Bran had gone over to a friends house through floo, or he and Mare would retreat to the den or their rooms to do whatever it was they enjoyed doing. The Marauders would then sit about and occupy themselves with mundane things. Usually this ended up with them talking about Quidditch or work, or playing a quick game of wizarding chess nothing of any particular interest. Harry thought that they might be keeping things unusually subdued for his benefit, but he didn't comment. He knew they were all keeping things simple, at least for the beginning, and he was grateful for it. It was difficult to get to know a whole new world and he knew it would be a long time before he got to know it as well as the one he had come from. He could hardly expect for everything to be the same and in fact, he had been counting on it being very different.

Though actually, Harry was surprised at how well he was adjusting to life in the house, if not this world, and how quickly he seemed to be forgetting about the troubles that he had feared would follow him from his own world.

Instead of worrying, he spent his days in conversation with one of the adults. On some nights the three Marauders made their way to the Hogs Head for a few drinks, but Harry never joined them. He really had never been much of a drinker, and as much as he enjoyed the company of the men, he took the opportunity to stay at home and have some one-on-one time with his Mum instead.

In fact before no time Christmas had uneventfully come and gone, and Harry's only regret on New Years was that he really hadn't been able to spend much time getting to know his brother or sister over the break. Either Bran was off with Sirius, and Mare was in a deep discussion with Remus, or both were hiding away in their rooms. He got along with them well enough, and they did talk lightly here and there, but Harry wanted to be able to sit down and really get to know them.

Overall the holiday had been one of the best Harry could remember. His relationships with his parents and the Marauders were progressing, however awkwardly still, but there was an improvement. They hadn't been able to play a game of Quidditch, as James had hoped, since the weather had been so terrible. So far there hadn't been anything but one storm after another, almost since the day Harry had found Hedwig, but they would save Quidditch for another day. Then only days before everyone was scheduled to leave the house, Harry found himself faced with one of the worst possibilities he hadn't ever dreamed to think up.

They had all just finished with dinner, and Harry and Remus were in the middle of a game of chess, which he was loosing dramatically when he heard the news. Mare was trying to help out with the game, but between her advice and his chess pieces' criticism, Harry only found himself all the more confused. Bran and Sirius were in one corner, conspiring over a piece of parchment that Bran was furiously scratching notes on with a long quill. James and Lily were on the couch, curled up together James reading the Daily Prophet and Lily reading a book that Sirius had given her for Christmas.

Harry heard the tap at the front window first, and got up to let the poor owl that had braved the latest snowstorm into the warmth. The poor thing was a bundle of wet feathers, but it wearily made its way to Sirius and struck out its leg.

All of a sudden the room became serious, even Bran and Mare seemed to notice the sudden tension, and all eyes were on Sirius, who cursed.

"What is it Sirius?" Bran asked, anxiously trying to look over Sirius shoulder.

"South Ireland," Sirius said, he was already on his feet.

"What's going on?" Mare asked, pulling herself up as well.

"Enough kids," James interrupted. "Upstairs the both of you, now."

"But, Dad-" Bran whined first.

"Upstairs," Lily repeated, her tone more firm than Harry had yet heard her use.

Mare and Bran exchanged furious glances and then obeyed.

"We never get to stay-" Mare said.

"Yeah why does _he_ get to?" Bran quipped and Harry had no doubt in his mind they were talking about him.

They heard their furious stomps as they made their way up the stairs, thought there was little else they could do.

When they were safely gone from the room James and Lily turned back to Sirius. "What's it say?" James asked.

Sirius was tying up his boots; there was a dark look on his face that Harry was surprised to see. Strangely enough it was the most like his Sirius that Harry had ever seem him look. His eyes had that same haunted look that Sirius' had acquired after his long stay in Azkaban.

"Death Eaters in Southern Ireland, there are varied attacks. The Ministry is calling in all available personal." He pulled his cloak from the rack and fastened it around his neck. "Guess the holiday is cut short, I'll be back when I can," then he disapperated with a sharp crack.

Remus stood up and glanced wearily back at the abandoned chess game. "Well we almost made it through the holiday," he said sadly. "Guess that's something to be grateful for."

"I'm sorry if I sound completely clueless," Harry said finally when it was obvious no one was going to explain anything to him. "But did I just hear that there are Death Eaters in Southern Ireland?"

James sighed and sat back down on the couch, pulling Lily down into his arms. "I suppose so, we'll have to wait and hear the details from Sirius when he gets back."

The fact that Sirius was an Auror had been told to Harry during his first real conversation with Sirius when they had been clearing the walk. At the time Harry hadn't been too surprised, he knew that Sirius had always wanted an active life and more involvement with what was going on in the world. Being cooped up at Grimmauld Place had never been to his fancy.

Harry snorted again; they weren't quite getting it. "No I mean why would Death Eaters be in South Ireland?"

Remus looked up and met his eyes. "Who knows why they do anything?" He looked back down at the chessboard where his queen was viciously attacking one of Harry's pawns.

"I'm sorry, but I still don't quite get what we're talking about here." Harry said, panic was already seizing his chest; he was finding it increasingly harder to breath.

"You-Know-Who, Harry," James said, his voice full of surprise. "_Lord Voldemort_," he added in a whispered hush.

Suddenly, Harry found himself with a desperate urge to sit down, and he did so, landing heavily on an overstuffed chair. For a moment he found himself quite unable to say a single word, then he blinked took a look around the room at James, then Lily and lastly Remus, all of which were staring into space thinking their own thoughts. Then without making any sound Harry stood up and walked out of the room.


	7. Chapter 7: A Place In The World

A Second Chance

By S.L

Chapter Seven: A Place in the World

Harry was leaning his forehead against the cool glass of his bedroom window, slowly stroking Hedwig's feathers as he thought about what all of this meant.

_Never_, had he even considered the possibility of Voldemort being alive in this world. When he had used the spell to bring himself here he had thought he was bringing himself to a place where things were _different_, where he could be a different person and live a different life. This changed absolutely everything.

After the night that Sirius had rushed out, Harry had scoured the house for all recent editions of the Prophet and forced himself to read every article. From what he could deduce, Voldemort had been a prominent figure in Britain for years, Harry had never been alive to destroy him as a baby all those years ago; his reign of terror had gone unchecked. Now he held Britain in fear, and his attacks were numbered as high as his casualty list. He had even begun to strike on the continent, gathering Death Eaters to him all throughout Europe.

How the possibility had slipped unnoticed through Harry's mind, he didn't know. He had been so caught up in what this world being perfect, that he hadn't thought things through. All he had cared about was that his family was alive, that Sirius and Dumbledore were as healthy as he could hope for, and that his old owl had even found her way back to him. He couldn't have asked for more, and now this?

Things always had to work out horribly for him, Harry thought bitterly. He knew he was the only one who could destroy Voldemort, he who had destroyed him already once before. That itself had taken nearly everything Harry had to offer, and nearly everyone he had loved. Could he really do that all over again? After all he had come here to be normal; couldn't he just leave this into the hands of the Aurors and the Order as any normal boy would?

Obviously no one would expect him to suddenly take up his wand and stand in the front lines as he had been expected to in his world. Here, he wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived; he wasn't 'The Chosen One.' No one here even knew he existed except for the people currently in the Potter cottage and Albus Dumbledore himself. If he just faded into the background and pretended he didn't know anything about Voldemort who could know to blame him?

But even Harry knew that was a lie. As much as he wanted to be normal and to stay out of this war, he knew he would never be able to, not even if he had the chance in a thousand different worlds. Voldemort was his rival in every way, and the mere fact that he existed, grated him. He knew he would never be able to live with himself if he didn't do everything within his power to rid himself of the self styled Dark Lord.

Harry had come to this world to be normal, and opposing Voldemort would make him anything but normal. If he took up his old habits and post, would he become a figurehead again? Would his name grace the front page; would parents come up to him with babies named after him, would he receive letters of thanks or letters of hatred from strangers throughout the world? Would he get those glances, and would whispered comments follow him wherever he went? It had been bad enough the first time for everyone, even the people closest to him, to be afraid of what he was capable of, to think of him as being mad or even dangerous. It had been impossible not to divulge into dark magic to rid the world of Lord Voldemort the first time, and Harry's apparently natural abilities in the field had left more people than himself afraid of his powers and capabilities. Harry knew that more than he had been frightened that he could be tempted to become a Dark wizard himself. Just one step out of line was all it would have taken to make Harry Potter, Voldemort's right hand man, rather than his enemy.

Harry knew he was a powerful wizard; at the least, that much he didn't try to deny. There weren't many who could produce a full patronus at the age of thirteen and teach a secret defense organization under the Ministry's nose at the age of fifteen. He was extraordinary in every way, and he had fought all his life not to be. If he came out in opposition to Voldemort in this world and joined in the war, his abilities would soon become apparent.

Could he really take the looks of surprise, horror, and disbelief on Lily and James' faces? What about Remus and Sirius? Then there was Dumbledore. The man already suspected something about Harry, he was sure, and he didn't think that he could stand the suspicion that would follow if he didn't at least have Dumbledore's support, that much he could not bear.

No, he was stuck. He could neither fight in this war, nor ignore it, either way he wouldn't be able to live with himself. Everything he had wanted was now tainted.

Someone was knocking politely on his door. Reluctant to leave his melancholy mood, Harry peeled himself away from the glass to answer the caller.

"Hey, Harry." It was Remus, holding a seaming mug of hot chocolate up. "It's got marshmallows," he said temptingly.

Smiling, Harry accepted the cup and allowed Remus into the room, choosing to return to his seat by the window. After a brief look around, Remus followed him in and fell casually onto the bed.

"You missed dinner," then he winced. "Well you didn't miss much really, Lily had to pick something up from the Three Broomsticks."

Harry chuckled at the now familiar joke about Lily's cooking and took a long sip of the warm hot chocolate. "Sorry, I guess I got a little wrapped up in my thoughts is all."

"Yes, I had noticed," Remus, responded dryly, then he began to look around the room. Harry hadn't done anything to it, it still looked decidedly unlived in, but his clothes were now strewn about and his trunk sat open in the corner. Remus picked up a half opened book off the bed and started flicking through it absently. "You've been bothered since Sirius left that night actually, I noticed." The comment was made in an offhand sort of way.

Harry turned to Remus to answer, and swiftly rose up and snatched the book from Remus hands and snapped it shut. He swallowed and gently set the book down out of reach. "I'm sorry Remus, I don't know what's wrong with me today." Hiding his actions Harry bent his head into his hands and tried to look weary. He felt a little guilty, trying to make Remus think something was wrong with him, but he didn't really want to explain why he couldn't let the man flip through the pages of a copy of a book from Harry's world. He really didn't feel like explaining what he was doing in _Modern Magical History_, had Remus been able to pick out his name. He would have to remember to be more careful with his other world possessions next time.

"It's alright Harry," Remus said, as always, instantly forgiving. "I guess you're still having a little trouble becoming accustomed?"

Harry pulled back, sighed and rested the back of his head against the glass. "I'm still feeling a little unsettled and sick; I'll admit that much. Also, there are certain things I'm having some trouble adjusting to. Everything is so dramatically different. Even you, really," Harry added, hoping to drive the conversation in another direction.

"Is that so?" Remus said, peeking up a little bit. "Tell me, how different am I? Were we close?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah," then he smiled. "You were the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher I ever had."

At that Remus chuckled. "Don't tell James that, or he'll be insanely jealous; he fancies himself the best, I think." He paused, then, "was I really your teacher?"

"Yes, my third year," Harry laughed at Remus. "I didn't see you too much really. The first time we met, you were just my professor. You never even told me you were friends with my dad until halfway through the year, and I didn't even know how close you guys had been until the year was almost over."

Remus didn't say anything, other than making an interested noise in the back of his throat.

"But in the end things worked out, after…" Harry swallowed, thinking of when Sirius died, and looked down at his shoes. "After things started getting bad," he continued a little more solemnly. "You were around a lot more, you know, when you could. Though Dumbledore had you running around most of the time, but I got to see you at least on summers, here and there, at Grimmauld Place."

"You used to stay at Grimmauld Place then, Harry?" Remus asked.

Harry looked up, still reminiscing. "Yeah, I mean, it was Sirius' so..." He didn't much feel like explaining that time of his life.

Looking worn, Remus scratched his chin and nodded. "You and Sirius were very close then weren't you?"

Lips twitching, Harry thought about that. Yes, in a way he and Sirius had been very close indeed: he was the next best thing to a father that Harry had had. In another way though, he and Sirius had never really had much time to spend with one another, just the one summer at Grimmauld Place when you stopped to think about it. After that, things had been strained at times; Sirius had always wanted a friend more than he wanted a godson.

"Yeah, we were," he consented finally, having thought about it for a bit. "It's very strange having to get to know him all over again, and you," Harry amended. "You both are very different."

Remus laughed, "how so?"

"Things were a lot harder on the both of you than they seem to be here," Harry admitted solemnly, and then he perked up. "Also you were involved in a rather dramatic romance with Tonks," Harry smiled; he hadn't been able to resist slipping that in. Also he had been curious as to what happened with the young Auror.

To his surprise, Remus blushed furiously and avoided his gaze. "Nymphadora? Sirius' cousin?"

Harry laughed heartily. "That's the one, it was a rather torrid affair actually."

"Oh god," Remus said rubbing at his eyes in an embarrassed fashion, his cheeks were still pink. "I don't think Sirius would ever quite forgive me."

"Once things came out in the open you two were very happy," Harry said, serious once again. "It was nice that someone had a bit of happiness in life finally, and you two deserved it." He looked back down at his hands, and wondered about the possibilities. Tonks and Remus would never be able to legally marry or have children, due to Remus' lycanthropy. When Harry had left his world, he had left them both settling down in Cornwall, just happy to have each other. When he had made his last visit to see them he had realized that he had never seen either one of them quite as content as they were then.

"And Sirius approved?" Remus asked, with a hint of something that made Harry snap his head up and give him a sharp look. Perhaps there was already something going on with the two of them here as well. Was Remus just nervous about Sirius' reaction?

"I don't really know," Harry admitted honestly. Though Remus and Tonks had begun their relationship when Sirius was alive, Harry had never discussed it with him. He wasn't even sure Sirius ever knew, though he had always assumed that he had been aware.

"Oh," Remus said deflated. Then he heaved sigh and stood up. "Listen Harry, I know we're all splitting up now the holidays are over. I just wanted to let you know that if you would like to write to me, I'd love to hear from you." He nodded his head at Hedwig and grinned. "Now that you have Hedwig, I thought you'd like it if there was someone outside of Hogwarts you could talk to. You know, give the girl a chance to stretch her wings every once in a while."

Harry smiled up at Remus, genuinely moved. "That means a lot to me Remus. I will, I'll tell you about my first week back at school as soon as I get through it."

Chuckling, Remus made for the door. "Good luck with that Harry; I know I couldn't go back to classes after the break you've had."

Harry snorted in agreement. School had been one of the things that he, Dumbledore, and his parents had discussed on his first night of consciousness. At first he had been quite shocked to learn that he was still school age, at twenty-years-old, but then he was quite pleased with the situation. Shortly after his parents own graduation Hogwarts had switched from a seven year, to a ten-year institution. They hoped to provide more training and allow a longer period of time to stay out of the war. It made sense to keep students at Hogwarts for so long, in a way, and Harry wasn't about to complain. He had never really liked leaving Hogwarts early, and now he had the chance, or the excuse, to get to know some of his old school friends. This certainly gave him the opportunity to get to know Ron and Hermione again, at the very least. So he had agreed to Dumbeldore's request and said that after the break he would join the ranks of the tenth-year Gryffindor's, back at Hogwarts.

"I need all the luck I can get," Harry admitted with a small wince. "I can tell you, I'm not at all looking forward to having to take McGonagall's class again."

Remus stifled a laugh with a hand and then opened the door with the other. "I don't envy you Harry," then his face grew serious again. "Seriously though, Harry, good luck," he said. Then he gave Harry a quick wave goodnight and closed the door behind him.

Harry listened as Remus' footsteps followed the hall and returned downstairs. Then he picked up the cup of hot chocolate Remus had brought him and allowed himself a private laugh. Imagine, going back to Hogwarts. Well, no matter what he decided to do about Voldemort, things certainly were about to get interesting.

XXX

Packing for Hogwarts, had not been unlike the process that Harry had become accustomed to at the Burrow. Bran and even James and Lily had scrambled about the house until the last second, gathering up their things. Only Mare and Harry had been ready to leave when the time came, but somehow they managed to make it to the castle in time. Though, Harry thought this had to be credited to the carriage that Dumbledore had sent down to collect them all.

The carriage had barely pulled in front of the castle before Harry found himself being ordered up to Dumbledore's office by a sour faced Mr. Filch. So, parting from his parents, with the promise to see them at dinner, and leaving his belongings in the very capable hands of the house elves, he made his way to see the Headmaster.

Really, it was his first time in the castle since he had come to this world, so he took his time in the ancient corridors. Before, when he had woken up in the Hospital Wing, he had only been allowed beyond Poppy's eyesight when his parents had come to collect him and bring him to their house in Hogsmeade. Of course, this had only allowed him to see a few flights of stairs and the entrance hall, and at the time he had been paying more attention to his parents, than to his surroundings.

For some reason Harry had not expected Hogwarts to be any different from the place he had known so well in his world, and he was not disappointed. Not a single suit of armor or portrait was out of place, as far as he could tell. Everything looked exactly the same, and it would have been exactly the same if it hadn't been for the general feel of the place that Harry got. This Hogwarts lacked a certain warming comfort that Harry had learned to grow accustomed to in his own Hogwarts and he found that the difference was more startling than anything else he could have expected. This Hogwarts just felt like a big, old building, not like the magic soaked environment he knew it was.

Still, disappointment aside, Harry was glad to be back. No home could ever compare to Hogwarts. Just being back was enough to erase all the long days of worrying about Voldemort, Harry had been doing. Finally, he felt like he was at home.

The gargoyle was just as stubborn as Harry remembered it to be, but Harry tried a few guesses at the password on it anyways, before he unraveled the note that Mr. Filch had given him downstairs.

"Treacle Tart," Harry told the gargoyle as he read the password off the parchment and waited for the moving staircase to appear.

When he had traveled up into the tower, Harry paused for a moment outside of Dumbledore's door to compose himself, and then he knocked.

"Come in Harry," Dumbledore's comforting voice said.

Harry stepped into the door into the once familiar office. It was like stepping back in time. Everything seemed just as he remembered it to be. There were the old headmaster's on the wall, sleeping in their frames (minus Dumbledore's of course), there was Dumbeldore's pensive, Fawke's (now empty) perch, and all of his whizzing instruments. There were even a few instruments that Harry himself had destroyed in his own world several years ago, and which had been missing from Dumbeldore's office ever since Sirius had died.

It was certainly a heartwarming change to what Harry had seen it as after Dumbledore's death. Soon after it had been occupied by Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, who had been reluctant to change much, but had put away a good deal of Dumbledore's things in any case. Then after the school had been forced to close Harry had taken up residence in the office, and had turned it into a central office for everything he had been involved in at the time. Then, just before Harry had left, he had seen it back in the hands of McGonagall, empty of almost everything Dumbledore, redone and made completely for the returning Headmistress. It involved a great deal of tartan, many organized in and out boxes, transfiguration models, and for a reason that Harry didn't dare ask, a small cage of little white mice.

"I'm glad you could make it Harry, I hope you don't mind if we cut a bit into the feast." Dumbledore said, motioning for Harry to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. Harry did so, feeling a slight twinge of delightful déjà vu. "If this takes too long I can send for a house elf to bring us some snacks."

"I don't mind at all Headmaster," Harry said politely. He wasn't sure what this meeting was about, though he did have a general idea. Dumbledore still did not know much about Harry himself, and the pair of them had not had much interaction with one another. Knowing Dumbledore, Harry was sure that he would not be able to allow Harry into his school without knowing a bit more about him. Besides, Harry was sure Dumbledore knew more than he was letting on, he generally did.

"Good," Dumbledore said pleasantly, and then relaxed back in his chair. "I wanted to have the opportunity to go over a few things with you before you had to tackle the difficulties of assimilating as a student again." He smiled at Harry and then placed the gold-rimmed spectacles on his face so he could read a note on his desk.

"I have here the responses of my staff on whether or not you will be accepted into classes."

Harry hesitated, he wasn't going to be accepted? "Sir?" he asked, puzzled.

"Well, many of the teachers were reluctant to admit you without having any general knowledge base of your skills, but I was able to convince them to allow you in on the grounds of trial-and-error. I'm not sure how whether you will find yourself ahead or behind of your peers, but for the purpose of staying with your year I've enrolled you in the general N.E.W.T. level courses." He looked down at the paper on his desk again and read off the list. "N.E.W.T. Potions, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Charms. You will also have the option of deciding on two other electives, which I will expect you to report to your head of house by no later than the beginning of next week."

"Yes, sir," Harry agreed when Dumbledore looked up. He couldn't help feeling a little superior though. N.E.W.T.'s were being held in the tenth year, not the seventh, here. True, he had not taken N.E.W.T. classes in his world, but he had passed the N.E.W.T. test with good marks across the board.

"Lily took the initiative to write to Flourish and Blotts about your texts, and I believe that you will find all of your required books in your dormitory when you arrive tonight," Dumbeldore continued. "You will be staying with the Gryffindor tenth-year boys, and your head of house is, of course, Professor McGonagall. She will make sure that you will receive your class schedule at breakfast tomorrow morning. Now," Dumbledore settled back again, and removed his glasses. "You are joining us in the middle of the year, under the disguise of a transfer student, both very unusual circumstances so don't be surprised if people are unusually interested in you."

Harry resisted a laugh, and made a slight choking noise instead. "Not a problem sir," he answered, completely seriously. Having people unusually interested in him was hardly anything out of the ordinary for Harry Potter.

"If you have any problems dealing with your story, come to me." Harry nodded to Dumbledore. "If you have any problems dealing with the curriculum address your head of house, though," here Dumbledore gave Harry a gentle smile. "I'm quite sure that either one of your parents would be more than happy to help you out if it should come to that. If we need to make adjustments with your classes, we will. If you prove that you understand the material adequately then I have no problem in making sure that you are able to stand the N.E.W.T. tests with the rest of your peers and graduating at the end of the year."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, really impressed. He really hadn't expected that, more or less, he had thought the whole thing would just be a charade. Graduation was more than he could have hoped for. Though he had stood the N.E.W.T.'s in his world, and received a wizarding license (though he wasn't sure he had obtained it entirely legally), he had not been allowed to be a graduate of Hogwarts. No one in the Ministry had been about to deny Harry Potter, their 'Chosen One' the right to carry a wand, especially if their lives depended on it, but they had refused him the right to group himself with the rest of Hogwarts alumni since he had officially left the school after his sixth year. It was a trivial thing, but it stung none, the less.

"But, your education aside, Harry," Dumbledore continued, more seriously now that business was done. "I want to talk to you about some other matters."

"What is that, sir?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore folded his hands in his lap gently. "I understand that you have been favoring solitude over the past few days."

So there it was. "Yes, it was rather silly of me, I expect, but for some reason I had been hoping that Voldemort would not be alive here." Harry looked down at his lap, he was going to have to play this one out right. Dumbledore was not a stupid man, and he knew when he was being lied to. Luckily enough, Harry had practiced with the best of the best. He might not be a fantastic occulmens, but he did know something of the game.

"Ah," Dumbledore said. "You thought that maybe he would not exist here did you?"

"Well," Harry looked up, feigning meekness. "I had hoped for a better world; my parents were alive, old friends… I suppose it was too much to expect that he would not be here."

"Voldemort is a terrible man, Harry," Dumbledore said understandingly. "However, we must remember that he is only a man."

Despite himself, the corners of Harry's lips twitched. That sounded so familiar to him; it was refreshing to hear Dumbledore say it. "Yes, sir," he said instead, trying to maintain his solemn expression. "I don't know why I thought otherwise; I guess I thought that the reason everyone here was alive was because Voldemort did not exist."

"Yes, but think Harry, just because they are alive doesn't mean that others have slipped through his grip. There have been a great many who have suffered in this world, a great many; you must not forget about them."

"I know," Harry said softly, and he did. He had given those people a great deal of thought. In fact, he knew, more so than anyone, the things that Voldemort could do. "I will not forget about them, sir."

"Good," Dumbledore said. "See that you don't. I've noticed something about you Harry, and I'd like to ask you a very important question."

Harry looked up into Dumbledore's sharp eyes. Perhaps he had managed to trick him a bit, but Dumbledore was not entirely fooled by Harry. The old Headmaster knew Harry knew something, just as Harry knew that Dumbeldore knew something. It was a mind game Harry had been absent in Harry's life for years, strangely, he discovered then that he had missed it. Besides, he wouldn't put it past Sirius, Remus, James or Lily to report back to Dumbledore on his actions and behavior over the time they had known him.

"Did you have any involvement in the war in your world Harry?" Dumbledore asked. "Any unusual ties to myself or to Hogwarts?"

It took a great deal of effort on Harry's behalf, but he forced his face and mind to remain blank. Dumbledore wouldn't probe his mind with legilimacy, but the old man could read falsehoods from a person's face with more accuracy than mind reading with magic.

"Only that of very old, very close friends, sir," Harry admitted. "Since my parents had been closely involved with the war at the time of their death, I think you took an interest in me and my case. You made the decision to send me to my aunt and uncle's and when I came to Hogwarts you were one of the few who had an interest in my general well being. Other than that, sir," Harry finished up. "Our relationship was no more than the usual Headmaster-student relationship."

For a moment Dumbledore was silent, then he nodded heavily. "Very good then, Harry. I think if you hurry, you can still catch the end of the feast," he added. "I don't think I will be joining you, however, I have some reports I must catch up on."

Harry nodded, slightly relieved to be dismissed, Dumbeldore was a very tricky man. "Yes, sir," he said and stood up.

"Oh, and Harry," Dumbledore called as Harry moved to leave the room. "If you should think of anything else that you would like to tell me, please don't hesitate to seek me out."

"Yes, sir," Harry whispered, trying very hard not to feel ashamed of himself. He needed to remember the big picture. He was here to be normal; of course he could help, but no one needed to know that, at least not yet; he could at least be normal for a few months before anyone started looking at him strangely. "Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, Harry," the Headmaster called after him, but Harry had already disappeared behind the door and was already climbing down the moving staircase back to the main body of the castle.


	8. Chapter 8: Back to School

A Second Chance

By S.L

Chapter Eight: Back to School

After leaving Dumbledore's office, Harry didn't much feel like going to the feast downstairs. The Headmaster had left his stomach in knots, and the thought of food wasn't going over very well in his mind. Besides, the feast would be nearly over anyway, so even if he did head for the Great Hall, he would only manage to make it for the puddings. Instead, Harry headed for Gryffindor Tower.

It was only when he was down the hall from the fat lady that Harry realized that he didn't know the password. Luckily enough a group of what looked like fourth or fifth years just in front of him, so this did not become a problem.

The two girls were giggling, and clinging to one another's arm. One of them pointed at the blond boy ahead and whispered something in her friend's ear.

"Pringles!" One of them called out, and then the group broke down laughing as they climbed through the portrait hole.

Definitely fifth-years, Harry decided. One of their friends had probably become prefect this year and had been allowed to make up the password for the first time. Whenever that happened, without fail, the password was always in inside joke of some kind to the prefect and their friends.

The portrait swung shut behind the group, and Harry made the last few yards to the Fat Lady alone.

"Password?" She said in a bored voice as she examined a tear in her dress.

"Pringles," Harry said.

She looked up and squinted at him. "Now, I don't recognize- ah that's right!" She winked. "Don't worry about being new, you'll be fine, boy. Dumbledore's told me to watch out for you."

The words were meant to be comforting, and Harry was sure that the Fat Lady thought that they were. However, Harry knew that when Dumbledore had told the Fat Lady to 'watch out' for him, he had really meant to keep track of whether or not Harry snuck out, or if anything unusual happened around her. All that would be lost on the Fat Lady, so Harry just nodded thankfully and stepped through the portrait hole.

He had been right, dinner must have been nearly over, because Gryffindor Tower was not yet full of chattering students, contained few groups of chattering students.

Harry turned at the sound of his name; his brother Bran was sitting by the fire in Ron's old favorite chair. There were a few other boys gathered around him- his year-mates, Harry figured. He walked over to join his brother to see what he wanted.

"Harry, these are my mates, Jack, Andrew, and Ritchie. Guys, this is my cousin Harry that I told you about," Bran said as he pointed to each boy in turn.

Something about the statement must have been funny, because Andrew suddenly snorted, and Jack covered up a laugh with a cough.

Feeling like he was missing something, Harry just nodded to the four slowly. "Hello," he said. "It's very nice to meet you."

But just then his eyes slid past the four boys and settled on a hunched over figure in the far corner, well away from the noise at the entrance, and from the glow of the fire in the grate.

"Excuse me," he told them and strolled past.

It was Hermione, bent over a stack of books, all by herself in the dark corner. He was sure it was her, though there was something different about the way she looked that Harry could quite place. Both Hermione and Ron had died during the long war in his world. This time, rather than the flip-flop his stomach usually did when he had been re-introduced to someone close he had known who died, Harry felt unusually calm.

"Hello," Harry said as he approached, though now that he was here he felt a little silly. This Hermione wouldn't know him at all, but he had to make sure they became friends without coming off as a complete creep. "I'm Harry Potter, I've just transferred into your year, I think."

She looked up with a hint of hesitation. She was wearing reading glasses and her hair was pulled back in a frizzy bun. She nodded slowly, placed her quill down, and stuck out one hand. "Hermione Granger, I'm the Head Girl. Headmaster Dumbledore told me to make sure that you were getting along alright."

Harry managed a weak smile. "Yes, I figured he would," he muttered to himself.

"What was that?" Hermione said, removing her reading glasses and giving him an expectant look. "I didn't hear you."

"Oh, it was nothing," Harry spat out quickly. "I was just saying that it was nice to meet you."

Her mouth opened a little, and her eyebrows slanted. "Oh, okay then. Well, let's see then, do you have any questions about anything yet?"

"Er-" Harry's brain scrambled to think of something to ask her that would keep her talking, but nothing was immediately jumping to mind. What kind of questions could he have about something he knew everything about?

"I've taken the liberty," Hermione continued, turning back to her notes and arranging a small pile of scrolls. "Of compiling my notes from the fall term so that you would have some reference for class," she said in an excited voice. "If you look these all over tonight then, hopefully you'll be prepared classes tomorrow without being too far behind." She dripped some sand on the scroll she had been working on, rolled it up and handed it to Harry in the stack with the others.

"Um-" Harry managed before he was interrupted again.

"I'll be your partner in all of our core classes, until you catch up at least," she went on in a formal tone. "Also if you need me at any other time, my room is at the very top of the tower in the Head Rooms."

"What she means is," a voice mocked, just behind Harry's left ear. "She wants you to meet her at midnight tonight for a little rendezvous."

Hermione's serious expression suddenly darkened, though she was blushing furiously. "Go away Weasley, this doesn't have anything to do with you."

None other than Ron Weasley slipped into Harry's field of vision and crossed his arms across his chest and glared at Hermione. "So sorry, Granger. Shall I just wait for you to finish bossing him around then?" He looked at Harry smugly. "Did she tell you that you've got to be her partner in every class because she can't get anyone else to do it?"

In fascinated horror, Harry turned to see Hermione's reaction to this. Her cheeks had suddenly become very puffy, and she looked like she was trying to bite off her bottom lip.

"You're just angry because you couldn't make Head Boy, Weasley," she snapped. Then she turned and started to gather up her things. "Why don't you go and- and," she had turned back to Ron now, her arms full of books. Her eyes looked dangerously watery.

"And what Granger?" Ron said with a mock pout. "Can't you think of anything?"

Instead of answering with words, Hermione made an angry sort of sigh and stomped off up the girl's stairs.

Immediately Ron started laughing, and Harry became aware that there were two other boys standing just behind him, echoing the laugh.

"Ron Weasley," Ron said as he stuck out his hand to Harry.

Harry stared at it in confusion. His brain was still a few minutes behind the present, trying to figure out just what the hell had just happened. That, and his arms were still full of the scrolls that Hermione had forced on him. He set those down on the table gently to buy himself some time, and then took Ron's accepted hand.

"This is Craig Wilson, and that's Seamus Finnegan," he said jerking his head to the two behind him.

Harry just nodded at the two, but didn't bother to spare the thought as to who Craig Wilson was, he would figure that out later. "So did I just miss something or…" his voice trailed off.

Ron snorted and waved a hand. "Nah, not really mate. Granger is a complete wand-in-the-mud, and a real pain."

"She seemed perfectly fine to me," Harry snapped, suddenly defensively, though he felt ridiculous. Imagine defending his best friend to his other best friend, who were in turn, best friends (well and more, but obviously not in this world), it was starting to get very hard to follow.

Seamus stepped forward and knocked the top scroll off the small pile on the table and watched it fall to the floor. "Oh and you enjoy having a weeks worth of homework assigned to you by your housemate on your first night of school then?"

"Um," Harry looked at the scrolls again, trying to think of something nice to say. "She did take the time to make sure I wouldn't be left behind."

Ron's mouth opened, and he looked as if he was concentrating on something very hard. Harry had to resist the urge to tell him not to strain himself.

"Right," Ron said slowly, after a moment. "So you're the new transfer student? McGonagall told us to watch out for you at dinner."

"Where're you transferring from?" The stranger, named Craig asked, slumping down in the chair Hermione had just abandoned.

They had rehearsed Harry's back-story at the Potter cottage on one of his first nights back and Harry's brain scrambled to remember it all. He was playing the part of James' nephew, the son of his estranged brother Jason Potter. He had been traveling with his 'father' across Europe for many years and had been unable to go to a boarding school because of it. Instead he had been trained in day academies and had been home schooled by his father. This was to be his first year at a boarding school and Dumbledore had only accepted him after his father had died and James and Lily had offered to take him in so that Harry could graduate in a real school.

"I'm not really transferring from anywhere I guess," Harry offered. "I mean I used to travel a lot, I never really stayed at one school very long, but I'll be here until the end of the term though."

The three boys exchanged a look, but then seemed to accept that because next Ron smiled and said, "cool."

The next hour or two Harry found himself describing all the places that he had supposedly been on his travels. Luckily enough, during his search for the horcruxes Harry really had done a great deal of traveling, so his descriptions weren't entirely made up. After that the three other boys showed Harry up to their dorm, and they had all called it a night.

Breakfast the next morning was- very strange to say the least. Harry had woken up earlier than any of his dorm mates, since he still had trouble sleeping most nights. So he had been one of the first to arrive in the Great Hall. Automatically, Harry's gaze drifted up to the head table to see who was there.

Both his parents and Dumbledore had not yet arrived, but Severus Snape was sitting in his usual spot with Minerva McGonagall right beside him.

Harry's eyes did a sort of double take at the sight. Both had been alive in his world when he had left, but it had been a very long time since he had seen both sitting together so calmly at the head table. It was sort of strange and gave Harry the sense of stepping back in time, again.

Feeling a little shaken now, Harry made his way to the Gryffindor table and sat down across from Hermione.

"Good morning, Hermione," he told her as he poured himself a glass of orange juice. He was anxious to become friends with her, despite all of Ron's warnings about what a pain she was.

As far as Harry could gather from the other boy's comments last night, Hermione was not at all liked by much of anyone in the school, except teachers. She was top of all her classes, a know-it-all, bossy, and her position as Head Girl just gave her the power to tell everyone what to do.

Though the descriptions did not seem at all ill fitting in Harry's mind, he knew that those were some of the reasons that he had liked her so much in his world. He liked that she was a know-it-all and the top witch of their year. It was what made Hermione, Hermione. He was trying very hard not to hold the matter against Ron, since he very much wanted to be friends with him too. Somehow he had to figure out a way to be close to them both, or even bring them together. The pair had been very much in love in Harry's world and had died together when the time had finally come. If they only had a mutual reason for being in the same room together here maybe they could have that relationship again. At least, Harry was determined to try.

"I wanted to thank you for those scrolls again," Harry said, trying to get her to open up a bit. "They'll be a big help for today."

"You're welcome Harry," Hermione said formally; she was moving her scrambled eggs back and forth across her plate with a fork, trying not to look at him. "Though I'll recind my earlier offer to be your partner. You can partner up with whomever you like."

The back of Harry's neck prickled and he spared a quick glance behind him, Snape was staring at him, Harry gave him a long stare back before turning to Hermione again.

"No, don't do that," Harry said. "I have a feeling that I'll really be needing some help with some of my classes, and you are Head Girl."

Hermione paused mid-bite. "You're sure?"

"Yes, I am," Harry said seriously and grabbed for a piece of toast just as Mare sat down beside him.

"Good morning, Harry," she said shortly, she glanced across the table at Hermione. "Good morning, Hermione," she added.

Harry couldn't tell by the way that Hermione greeted her back if the two were friends, or if they didn't get along, though after a moment he decided that they just weren't usually familiar with one another. Mare was a fourth-year after all, and Hermione was the tenth-year Head Girl, it would be unlikely that the two would spend much time socializing.

"How're you doing this morning, Mare?" Harry asked as his sister reached to make herself a plate.

"Fine, but I have potions first thing this morning," she said bitterly.

Hermione nodded in sympathy. "We have potions for the second morning block."

"Yes, I know," Mare said, sparing Hermione a brief look. "I see you all when we're leaving for History of Magic."

"How is Binn's doing?" Hermione asked.

"Same old, same old," Mare answered. "He's not really the changing type."

Deciding that Harry should be brought into the conversation Hermione turned her gaze on Harry. "Professor Binn's is the History of Magic teacher here, but you won't have him. Most students stop taking his class after their seventh-year."

"Yes, but you took his advanced class didn't you Hermione?" Mare said, in an interested tone.

Harry looked between the two girls, but felt that he shouldn't be too surprised that they seemed to be getting along. They were both complete bookworms in any case; it was only natural that they would have some things in common.

A heavy hand slapped Harry on the back and as another hand clutched Mare's slim shoulder. "Good morning, kids," James said, bending in between the two. "Good morning, Hermione."

"Good morning Professor Potter," Hermione greeted and took a sip of her milk.

Harry turned on the bench so he could see his dad more clearly. "How are you this morning?"

"Good," James admitted. "I just wanted to make sure you got settled in okay and that you found all of your school books."

Harry reached onto the floor and held up his bag that contained all of his new textbooks. He didn't want to tell his Dad that most of the books he had found, he already owned, but from a different world. He figured it would be best to keep to the new books, just in case there were any variations in the texts. He didn't want to be in class talking about a spell that didn't exist here, or something of that nature.

"Alright then," James said and stood up. "The tenth-years have Defense class this afternoon, so I'll see you then, and I'll see you," he pointed to Mare. "Tomorrow morning."

"Right, Professor," Mare agreed and turned her attention back on her breakfast.

When James had left Harry turned back to his sister. "You call him, Professor?" He asked.

"Yeah," Mare said as if this were obvious. "It wouldn't be right to call them Mum and Dad while we are in school; it's not professional. So Dad is Professor Potter and Mum is Ms. Evans."

"Evans?" Harry asked, even though he knew that had been his Mum's name before she had married their Dad.

"Her maiden name," Mare told him and took a bite of her toast.

"Well I'm going to go to the library for a bit this morning," Hermione announced, and set her napkin down on the table announcing the end of her meal. "Harry, we don't have our first class until the second bell; we have Potions with Professor Snape," she jerked her head up to the head table. "He's the one with the black hair next to Ms. Evans." Harry spared a quick glance at Snape who was firmly ignoring both women on either side of him, his Mum didn't look as if she was too pleased with the seating arrangements either. "If you want," Hermione continued, hoisting her book bag over one shoulder. "I'll meet you in the Great Hall so I can show you how to get to Potions class."

Harry gave her what he hoped was a grateful smile. "Yeah, I'd appreciate that."

When the table started filling up with various Gryffindor students Harry decided that it was a good time to go and explore the castle and the grounds a bit more. If his year didn't have class until the second block then he had a good hour and a half to see what changes there were in this Hogwarts in comparison to the one he knew. Also he wanted some private time to collect his thoughts and think over what he had been faced with so far, most of all Dumbledore.

He didn't much feel like going out into the cold, but he wanted to go to the Owlery and see how Hedwig was fitting in, so he decided to head there first.

So far Harry wasn't sure what to think about this new world. Everything seemed to be coming at him so fast, he barely had time to digest anything new. However, he did feel like he had at least a general impression of everyone he had met so far.

James, was unsure of himself, he wanted to be close to Harry, and was becoming so, albeit very slowly. Harry didn't think he wanted to trust that Harry really existed yet, but Harry understood, because he was the same way.

There had been points in Harry life, that after losing so many people you weren't sure relationships were worth it. It had been that way with Ginny, for him. At first Harry had wanted to end their relationship so that she wouldn't get hurt, then after realizing that this was a stupid thing to apply to Ginny Weasley, who was probably a stronger person than him, things had changed. By the time he had realized that, Harry had already lost his best friends, many of his comrades, and had done many things he had not been proud of. After that he had not been able to trust that Ginny still wanted him, still knowing all that he had done. He had already lost so many people, that he thought getting close to Ginny was just setting himself up for losing someone else just a little further down the line. When Ginny and he finally did end up together, what Harry had feared the worse became true. She had died, just as he thought she would if he became involved with her.

Lily was much easier to understand than her husband, as everything with her came down to basic maternal instinct. Harry could tell that when she looked at Harry, she just saw her baby boy, the one that she had lost when she was still a new mother. With Lily, Harry thought that she was just happy he was alive, and was willing to accept him in any form, just so long as he was hers.

Bran and Mare didn't spare much thought for Harry at all, that much was obvious. Neither one of them knew the importance that surrounded Harry, neither one of them knew that Harry was their brother, so he didn't hold anything against him. To them, he was just some intruding cousin, who hadn't been around for any of their lives and probably wouldn't be around for much of the rest of it. To him, he was temporary and they would put up with him as such.

Harry on the other hand, fascinated Sirius. He had been the first to ask all the trivial little questions about Harry, his life, his world and everything that had brought him here. He was a bundle of energy and clearly a very intelligent man once you caught his attention for more than thirty seconds. Harry had little doubt that his relationship with Sirius would ever be strained as it had been in his world. This Sirius had more than enough friends, which Harry's Sirius had lacked, and wouldn't expect too much out of him. Like Remus, Sirius had left the Potter cottage, only after making Harry promise to write to him whenever he could, and the promise to have him over to Grimmauld Place one weekend so they could get to know one another better.

"After all," Sirius had said with a lopsided smile and a jab to Harry's ribs. "You are my godson aren't you?"

Remus, was Remus, and it seemed as if there was very little that was different about the man. He was as understandable and easy to talk to as he had always been. Harry knew that he probably had some very deep thoughts about Harry, but would more than likely keep them to himself unless called out on them. Remus had always been a private sort of person, and Harry expected him to remain that way in this world as well. Except that in this world, this Remus also had a great more deal of confidence. Harry thought this came from having all of his friends around him. In this world Remus wasn't alone; he did have people to talk to. So perhaps it would be jumping to conclusions to think that he was keeping things as bottled up as the Remus Harry had known, would have. Harry would have to watch Remus to see how things developed before he decided how he really thought about things.

Both Ron and Hermione were different in this world. Neither one of them had a Harry to balance their personalities out, or had ever become close with each other. Of course this Ron and Hermione had also lacked having to deal with all the things that being friends with Harry had forced them to in his world.

Without him, they hadn't confronted a troll, hadn't figured out countless mysteries surrounding him, Voldemort, Hogwarts, Snape, and Dumbledore. There had been no secret organizations, no Triwizard Tournaments, no escaped murderers, nor secret dragons. This Hermione and Ron had never been forced to defend their friend against all odds, to stand up against full-grown Death Eaters, or to save one another from countless adventures. So far, he couldn't be entirely sure how this had affected their personalities. In this world they had been forced into the war at an early age, or had learned what it meant to be friends with the 'Chosen One' by fighting for their comrades lives, and eventually their own.

From what he could gather, this Ron and Hermione were perfectly ordinary students. Ron was the popular guy he had always wanted to be, but had never been able to with Harry always in the spotlight. He had Seamus and the newcomer Craig, who Harry still didn't know, as his best friends. He tolerated Neville and Dean, but obviously didn't like them much, and he seemed to be trying to at least make an effort to get along with Harry. He had been smart enough to become a prefect, Harry had learned last night, but not Head Boy, and he was the Keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He had a certain confidence that had been lacking from the Ron Harry had been best friends with, and it showed.

Hermione however, was lacking that confidence. Harry imagined that she had spent the past ten years getting made fun of for being smart, and never having a Ron or Harry to cheer her up had taken its toll. She was Head Girl, so she was still very clever, but she had never had to put her mind to the complex situations that it had been forced to face when Harry and her had been friends. She didn't seem to have many friends, and was therefore, very unable to connect with the people Harry had seen her interact with so far. He only hoped that he would be able to draw her out of her seclusion, into some type of friendship before the year was up.

Then there was Dumbledore. The man was the same mystery he had always been. However, Harry had had a good many years to become friends with the old Headmaster over the years, and only hoped that this would help him better understand him in this world. Dumbeldore wasn't the type of man who could change, no matter what world he was in. He was unique and decidedly Dumbledore. If there were any differences in the man, Harry doubted that he would be able to spot them, Dumbledore was just too clever for all of that. He did know that Dumbledore knew more about Harry than he let on. Harry knew that Dumbledore had already recognized something in Harry that he had not wanted him to, but since he wasn't calling Harry out on it yet, Harry didn't see any reason to address it. Perhaps he had realized Harry was more powerful than an ordinary wizard, or more unusual. Whatever it was, he suspected that he had more to do with the war than any usual twenty-year-old would have, and that could be helpful for later on.

Harry didn't want to be completely revealed for being what he was, and fight Voldemort openly with the Order, but he had decided that he wasn't going to stand around. Voldemort was alive in this world, and he intended to find out as much about him as he could. He intended to destroy the horcruxes (provided they were what they had been in his world, which he hoped they were since it would make them easier to find and destroy), and he intended to destroy Voldemort himself. First however, he needed to sit back and see where exactly everyone stood in this war. Was Snape a spy here? Was there an Order of the Phoenix? Were the members the same? Was Dumbledore still its head? Where did his parents fit in? Remus? Sirius? Where did Sirius being an Auror work into it all? Right now there were just too many questions to be answered before Harry could truly start to address what needed to happen. Though he knew that it was going to involve some fancy footwork on his behalf, it was going to be a difficult game to balance on his own, and he knew eventually he would have to bring in someone to help. Depending on where things stood in this world Harry had an idea of whom he would need to address, or if not, who he would have to call from his world to come to this one. There were many people who owed him favors, in his world, and one more so than any other.

Harry was just turning his mind to this prospect when he approached the West Tower, which contained the Owlery. Already he felt the ice cold blast that was always associated with the round room that was open to the outside elements, so Harry pulled his cloak about him tightly and continued inside.

Stepping inside, and looking around, Harry realized that he was not alone and his breath caught in his chest. Right in front of him, tying a letter to the leg of a dark black owl was Ginny Weasley.

She turned as she heard his footsteps behind her and gave him a little sneer. "So you're the new Potter," she said disdainfully, turning back to her owl. "And here I am thinking that there were enough of your lot here already."

Taken aback, Harry swallowed, what did she have against his family? "Sorry?" he asked instead.

Slowly she turned to face him again and gave him a condescending look. "I said," she began very slowly. "That I thought there were enough of your lot here already." This had taken a moment to get everything out as she had annunciated each word carefully.

"No I got that part," Harry said, feeling a little defensive of himself now. "I was just trying to figure out why you were beings so nasty to someone you did even know."

She smiled, but even this managed to look sour on her usually gentle features, and then she pointed to the front of Harry's robes where his Gryffindor crest was sewn on. Harry followed her direction and then looked back at her robes and noticed what he had not seen, or had been ignoring, from before. She was wearing Slytherin colors and had the Slytherin crest on her own robes.

"Ah, I was told about house rivalries," Harry said in a strained voice. How could Ginny possibly be in Slytherin? She was the most loving, caring, decent girl he had ever met in his entire life, and most definitely a Gryffindor through and through, she _hated_ Slytherins. "I just hadn't realized they were so… conclusive."

Her grin twisted and she threw her owl up into the air, who flew away and out the window gracefully.

"Afraid so, Sparky," she quipped, putting her hands on her hips. "You'll get used to it after a day or two. Now why don't you run along to the rest of your Gryffindor friends and do whatever it is you goody lot do."

Amused, more than anything else, Harry shook his head. This was unbelievable. Here was the girl of his dreams, the only person he had ever truly loved and lost, back from death itself, and she was a Slytherin. How the hell was he supposed to scavenge his way through this?

"So automatically, because of the color of my scarf we're enemies?" Harry retorted, now that he was up to speed with the game. There might be a way to salvage this relationship still, if he played his cards right. "You think I'm like the rest of those self centered bothers?"

A flicker of surprise crossed Ginny's delicate features. "You're telling me you're not? I'm afraid the sorting hat doesn't lie, little Potter, you're in Gryffindor for a reason, as I am in Slytherin. I'll forgive you this once though, you are new, and you have a lot to learn."

Harry smiled. "Sorting hat? I'm afraid the Headmaster wouldn't allow me to try it on. My aunt and uncle intervened and asked that I be put in the same house as my cousins, so I would have someone familiar to relate to."

This time Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" She said. "Interesting."

"Is it?" Harry responded, and crossed his own arms against his chest to cover up his pounding heart. He was taking a risk, if Ginny was in Slytherin this changed so much, but how had she ended up there?

"It is," she confirmed, and dropped her hands off her hips so they swung casually at her sides. She looked more gorgeous than ever. "Well," she continued, pursing her lips in a pout. "We'll just have to see about you then won't we, Potter?"

"I suppose so," Harry said, his voice sounding strange even to himself. How was he managing to take this all so calmly, inside he just wanted to scream. You're not a Slytherin! You're little Ginny! _My_ love, _my_ Ginny, you're _mine_. It only took your dying for me to realize it, but I _want_ you! _I love you_! It was a strange sort of feeling. Then again, this was a strange sort of situation and he had a strange sort of life, so he should be used to things like this by now.

This time Ginny didn't answer, instead she hoisted a book bag over her shoulder and sauntered past Harry back into the castle, but not before throwing him a long look as she passed.

When she was gone Harry heaved a huge sigh of… of relief, or pain, or confusion, or of whatever it was that was searing through his body right then. He didn't really know what to feel, yet.


	9. Chapter 9: All About Snape

A Second Chance

By S.L

Chapter Nine: All About Snape

Hermione had met Harry in the Great Hall as promised and shown him the much familiar route down to the Potions classroom in the dungeon. Perhaps Harry would have appreciated it more if he had been able to stop thinking about Ginny, but for some reason he was having a hard time accepting her into the map of this world he was creating in his mind. She just didn't seem to fit.

As it was, Harry and Hermione just managed to make it into the classroom before the late bell rang and took a seat near the front of the classroom just as Snape swirled into the room in a cloud of black and slammed the door shut.

Harry wanted to have the chance to evaluate the changes in this Snape, but his gaze drifted over to where surprisingly enough, Ginny was sharing a desk with Malfoy across the room.

"Some of the ninth years are allowed to take their N.E.W.T level classes a year early with one of their free spaces, if they don't want to take the full tenth-year course load," Hermione whispered into his ear as she noticed Harry turn his gaze to the rest of the room and take in some of the out of place faces. Ginny wasn't the only ninth year there, as well there were several tenth years missing from the crowd. Neville and Ron were both missing, and Colin Creevy was present with the other Gryffindor's.

"Why didn't you take it last year?" Harry whispered back. If there was a class you could take early, it would be unusual for Hermione not to jump at the chance.

"I took Transfiguration and Ancient Runes instead," she whispered, her voice barely auditable. "I wanted to save Potions for when I could devote my entire attention."

Snape strolled out of his office with his arms full of vials and slammed them down on his desk. "Miss Granger, and the new Mr. Potter, would you care to share with us all what you find so interesting?" Snape sneered at them both.

Harry felt a smile tug at his lips. It was good to see that Snape hadn't changed.

"Well, sir," Hermione squeaked. "Harry's new, and he has a few questions about things and…"

"And?" Snape snapped. "Our Head Girl has been assigned to baby-sit him has she?" His gaze shifted to Harry and Snape gave an evil sort of smile that made Harry want to cringe. "Do you need a babysitter, Mr. Potter?" There was a snicker from the Slytherin side of the room, but Harry stared back at the Potions Master levelly. These people didn't know how awful Snape could get, Harry did. His usual classroom rant wouldn't be enough to scare him this time around.

"Well, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked again, and motioned to the rest of the classroom. "Do you think just because the Headmaster has made the extraordinary exception of allowing you into this school so late in the term, and put the Head Girl at your service that you can keep up? Do you think for one moment that you deserve to be here on your own merits? In _my_ N.E.W.T. level course?" He leaned down on Harry's desk and placed his face right in front of Harry's own. "No proper schooling, no proper reports, no proper grades…" His voice trailed on. "No," he finished and pushed away from the desk and stood to address the entire class. "You're just lucky to be here aren't you Mr. Potter," then he spun around and got in Harry's face again.

"But if you think for even one second that I wanted to let you into my class, you're dead wrong. If you think that I'm going to make this easy for you, you're dead wrong again, and if you think I'm going to baby you along like the rest of the staff… guess what- you'd be wrong again. That's three wrongs isn't it _Mr. Potter_." He stretched out Harry's name with a hiss. "I call that an failure in this class, Mr. Potter; poor… dreadful… troll." He ended his rant, pushed himself away from the desk and strode to the head of the classroom again.

"I won't waste the class' time any long with our newest student," Snape snapped. "Today we shall be working Befuddlement Draughts. If you turn to page 332, you will find a list of the usual potions and draughts that fall under this category. You may chose from any of those listed there. You have one hour and a half to have a completed potion on my desk. Begin."

Shooting one last hate filled look at Harry, Snape turned and took a seat behind his desk and started grading papers.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Hermione hissed while everyone began busying themselves with the new potion.

Harry shrugged. "He doesn't seem like the type of man who appreciates back talk," Harry supplied, which was true.

Actually though, he wanted some more time to observe Snape before he decided on how to react to him. If he was going to do what he had been thinking about, then he was going to need the Potion Master's help, and didn't want to give him a reason to hate any more than the obvious ones, like being a Potter and a Gryffindor. First thing first was that Harry had to figure out what side Snape was on. Voldemort's or Dumbeldore's? He knew Snape's background and knew that it would have been a very delicate balance on what side Snape would have turned out on, and he didn't want to involved any guess work with this one. He would need to know for sure before he continued with his plans.

"You're right about that, how about the Confusing Concoction?" Hermione asked as she flicked through the pages of their potions book. "We'll need to get some sneezewort from the ingredient's cabinet.

Harry looked over to the corner where the ingredient's cabinet was located and saw Ginny standing in the throng of students gathered around it, waiting for their turn to get supplies. "I'll get it," Harry offered and jumped out of his chair before Hermione had the chance to say anything.

Ginny seemed to be watching as he approached, with an amused smile playing on her lips. "So," she drooled in a hushed voice as he approached. "Hermione Granger is what does it for you?"

"I beg your pardon?" Harry asked, a little taken aback. This Ginny was unusually forward.

"I'm sure that you do," she whispered, still smiling, and turned back to the face the ingredients cabinet.

Though Harry had hoped for a little more interaction with Ginny in the potions class, he found himself disappointed. After the short exchange at the ingredients cabinet, Ginny had retreated back to Malfoy to work on their potion and Harry returned to Hermione so they could finish up theirs.

It had been three years since Harry had been in school, and unfortunately his potions skills had not improved. However, he had managed to pick up a few tricks of the trade from Snape over that time, when they had grown closer and been forced to work with one another. Snape had made it very clear that while he thought Harry hopeless at Potions, he did expect him to at least be able to manage some more useful draughts. Of course if Harry had the Half-Blood Prince's copy of the text he was spectacular at potions. Unfortunately Harry only had the copy that applied to sixth-year, and N.E.W.T. level Potions was beyond anything that would be in it.

So, rather than embarrass himself Harry mostly let Hermione work on the potion, though he did supply help and listened as Hermione talked him through the entire process.

Finally, when Harry couldn't resist it any longer he finally decided to ask Hermione something he had been thinking about all morning.

"That uh- that girl over there," Harry said, jerking his head in Ginny's direction. "She looks a lot like Ron, are they related?"

Hermione spared Ginny a sour look before her eyes twitched back to Harry. "Yeah, there's a whole flock of Weasleys. You should have seen it when all 7 were here at once. Ron and Ginny are the youngest though, and Ginny is the only Slytherin of the whole lot of them, the rest are pure Gryffindor."

"That's strange," Harry said, sparing a moment to think about what Hogwarts must have been like with all 7 Weasleys. It was both a frightening and exciting thought. "How come she ended up with the Slytherins?"

"Well," Hermione said as if trying to decide if she wanted to go on. "I was never friends with any of the other Weasley's, but Ginny's situation is common knowledge. Apparently around the time her oldest brother Bill started at Hogwarts she became close to one of her uncles who was reputed for having a lot of involvement with Dark Magic," she said in a hushed tone, looking around to make sure no one could hear her. "By the time Ron started at Hogwarts she ran away to live with her uncle and became very closely associated with many Dark Wizards. No one in her family speaks with her anymore, especially after she became a Slytherin. When her brothers were here, they barely even looked at her."

"Wow," Harry said, trying to digest all of this. Ginny associated with Dark Magic? Did he really want to get to know her after all? He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Of course he did, she was still Ginny, wasn't she? Just because she was in Slytherin didn't mean she wasn't still a basically good person. Besides he himself had been associated with Dark Magic in different times of his life, he could hardly blame someone else for making mistakes.

"Yeah, I know," Hermione said, now bottling a sample of their potion in a tall vial. "She's horrible, I can't stand her," she finished up, shooting Ginny a hateful glare. "ever since she started dating Malfoy she's become more unbearable than ever."

At this Harry really did choke, and had to slow his breathing to regain control again. When he had finally regained use of his voice again and Hermione had satisfied to herself that he was alright he voiced the question. "I'm sorry, who did you say she was dating?"

Hermione looked apologetic. "Oh, sorry, I forgot you're new. Draco Malfoy, he's in our year, that blond boy that she's sitting with over there. Trust me, he's as bad as they come," she shivered as if remembering something. "I'd stay away from him if I were you Harry."

But by then Harry wasn't listening, his gaze had drifted back to where Ginny and Malfoy were sharing a lab bench. She was lazily stroking the hair back from his face as she read a passage from the text, while he stirred their cauldron.

It was almost the worst news that finding out that Voldemort was still alive in this world. Ginny with Malfoy, Merlin how could it get any worse than this?

XXX

Lunch was entirely uneventful, Harry sat with Ron and his friends as they talked about the upcoming Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, without really listening.

Then after lunch they all packed up their things and headed to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. It was something Harry had been particularly looking forward to, he wanted to see how James compared as a teacher. Though after everything he had learned so far that day, he knew he wouldn't be able to fully appreciate it.

"Come on, hurry up guys," James called to the group of tenth-year boys as they approached. He was standing outside hid classroom in long dark-blue robes, greeting his students as they arrived. "Hey Harry," he commented, and gave Harry a small smile. Harry smiled back, glad that James was warming up to him, even if it was only a little bit at a time. Right now he would take what he could get.

Harry entered the classroom with the group of Gryffindor boys, and took a seat near the window next to Ron this time, Hermione was already sitting with another girl Harry didn't know. It seemed that this class was exclusively Gryffindors though, so Harry thought that maybe she was a ninth-year.

"Today," James said striding to the head of the classroom and leaning back on his desk so he could have a good view of his students. "I thought we would veer off our curriculum for a bit and learn about the Patronus Charm."

Harry swallowed heavily, and tried to remain very still. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the reactions of his fellow students, without trying to obviously look like he was doing so. No one seemed to have any reaction to the news at all, except for Hermione who was flicking through a book and looking concerned. She was probably afraid of being unprepared for the class.

Since James' eyes then flickered over to meet Harry's, he thought that there was perhaps a definite hidden agenda to today's class. Quickly Harry skimmed through every talk he had had so far with James, Lily, Sirius, Dumbledore, Remus or his siblings to see if he might have mentioned anything about his Patronus or anything that could be linked to it. He couldn't remember saying anything that would have gotten back to James, so what was all this about? What had he said? He knew this was about him, he was sure of it, James was testing him somehow.

Deciding on a course of action, Harry straightened in his chair and forced himself to be ready to expect anything out of this class. If this was what it was going to take to earn James' trust and respect, then he was going to do it. No matter what that meant.

"Can anyone tell me what a Patronus is?" James asked the class.

Hermione's hand shot in to the air, Harry watched it with a small twinge of a smile. Strangely enough, it was nice to see that again.

"Yes, Hermione," James said, pointing to her and jumping up so he was sitting on top of his desk now.

"The Patronus Charm is used to conjure up the spirit of a Patronus which is a sort patron to the witch or wizard who conjurer's it. The spell can be helpful in many ways, it can be directed by the castor to do certain tasks, depending it's shape, and it can deliver messages. It must be remembered that the Patronus has no actual mass, it is perhaps most like a ghost. Also it is most commonly used against Dementors, as it is the only thing that can successfully fight them."

James nodded, impressed. "Very good Hermione, five points to Gryffindor for that. It was a very through definition." James turned his attention back to the rest of his students and let his gaze roam around the room. "Has anyone here ever successfully produced a Patronus?"

Once again Harry felt James' eyes fall on him, and he was faced with a choice. For some reason James wanted for him to admit that he could produce a Patronus, and perhaps do so, but what would that prove? Why on earth would James want to see Harry's Patronus if he didn't know what it was. So did he raise his hand and admit it? Or did he wait it out and see if James outright called him out on his ability? Which was worse?

Once again Hermione's arm short into the air, thought this time with a slight air of uncertainty. Both James and Harry turned their surprised attention on her, neither one of them predicted this.

James looked confused, obviously he had not expected anyone to know the spell. It wasn't one that was usually taught in school as so few wizards and witches usually needed it. The few who ever bothered to learn it were generally those who trained to be an Auror, or who worked on the island of Azkaban and therefore needed to know how to control the Dementors.

The timing however, only surprised Harry, not that Hermione knew how to conjure a Patronus. After all in another world, at another time, he had taught her how.

Next to him, Ron snorted. "Figures," he whispered to Harry as they watched James jump off his desk and approach Hermione.

"Really Hermione?" James said, intrigued. "Do you think you can?"

"Well," Hermione hesitated. "I've tried a few times, though I can't make it last for very long, and I'm not sure it's very strong."

James gave her a long look and then he slowly nodded. "Very well, if you can produce a Patronus for us, I will give Gryffindor twenty points for your effort." The class muttered at this, twenty points was a lot to gain for one spell. Hermione glanced around her nervously, now there were so many interested eyes on her, but strode to the front of the class.

Under the table Harry was crossing his fingers that she would succeed. Maybe if James had someone else produce a Patronus he would lose his excuse to call on Harry, as he knew he wanted to do.

Unfortunately this was not to be so, as Hermione pulled out her wand, she composed herself and muttered the spell in a very soft tone. Even from here Harry could tell that Hermione hadn't said it clearly enough, that she was not feeling confident enough, and that it was unlikely she was able to pull a good enough feeling memory to the front of her mind. Though she did manage to produce a long silver sort of mist that briefly seemed to take a lumpy form on the floor before dissipating completely.

James strode forward again and put a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder and pushed her back in the direction of her chair. "Very nice attempt Hermione, very good indeed. I'll give you ten points for it, it's more than most could produce at your age." His eyes shifted back to Harry.

Biting down on the inside of his cheek Harry met the gaze, pleading with James not to call him on him. Something must have been transmitted through the look and James' eyes suddenly slid past Harry.

After that, class was nothing too spectacular. James continued lecturing about the Patronus Charm, and called on several students, none of which were Harry, to answer questions. Then he assigned everyone to at least try the charm out sometime in their free time, though they would not be expected anyone to demonstrate it in class, as he was sure that very few would even manage the wisps of smoke that Hermione had achieved.

The rest of the afternoon was free for the tenth-years, so as Harry was leaving with the rest of his fellow students, he was surprised that James pulled him out of the crowd and asked him to hold back.

When the rest of the students had left James shut the door behind them solidly and leaned his back against it. "So," he said simply, as if expecting Harry to continue.

Harry wanted to, but didn't respond with "so, what?" Instead he sighed and decided to get this over with. "What exactly is it that you want me to admit here?" He asked.

"I want to see you conjure a Patronus," James said simply and nodded his head to the open teaching space at the front of the classroom.

Drudging up a happy memory of one of his last summer afternoon's with Ginny, Harry pointed his wand at the far wall and said in a clear, level, almost lazy tone; "_Expecto Patronum_!"

The silver stag erupted from his wand immediately, and since there was no obvious threat available it turned its head and looked back at Harry and James and stomped it's hooves.

Harry turned back and gave James a glare. "Is this what you wanted to see then?" He asked.

Instead of answering James strode forward, pass Harry and to the stag. He reached his hand out for the silvery spirit to sniff, then his hand leaned forward a little more and the stag evaporated. James was silent with his back turned to Harry for a few moments, then he pivoted on his heels.

"I just had to be sure," James said. "That, and I wanted to know if you would admit it."

"Admit what?" Harry asked, really confused now.

"Why is that stag your patron?"

Harry blinked. "I thought that much was obvious, it's your animungus form," he finished. "I didn't know it at the time, Remus had to point it out to me later."

"So," James said slowly. "You didn't even know that was my form when you first managed a Patronus?"

"Nope," Harry said, which was true. He hadn't even known about the true identities of the Marauders at all, at that point.

"Okay," James said, and took a step forward, he seemed to be thinking about something very quickly. "Aren't you curious as to why I wanted to know about your Patronus?"

Harry's eyes widened as if this was an obvious question. "Yes, I'm a bit confused about that actually, it's not terribly unexpected that my form should have turned out to be that of my dead father's animungus form is it?" And here he had thought that they had been starting to get along.

This occurred to James as well, who winced at Harry's tone. "No, that wasn't what I was testing for, though I do admit I was very curious. You conjured a Patronus when you were still knocked out from coming to this world," he said as if admitting something very secret. "We all saw it, Dumbledore, Lily, Sirius and I. One second you were dead asleep and then you just sat up and _boom_."

Harry's face screwed up in real confusion. He didn't remember that bit at all, though it certainly explained some of the caution that James had used with him and some of the insight that Dumbledore seemed to have on Harry. Producing powerful and full Patronus while dead unconscious and supposedly magically drained would be a rare feat indeed. Well, he _had_ been drained, but he hadn't told anyone that he had not been entirely whipped out. His magic levels were high enough to have reserves others wouldn't be able to know about, and he was able to regain magic very quickly. Though in all honesty the process was still slow, it had been almost three weeks and he still had a bit of room for magic to fill.

"I did?" He voiced.

James just nodded. "Yes, you did. I've been thinking about it ever since."

Something else popped into Harry's mind. "As long as we're sharing then," Harry said, thinking quickly. "I've got a question for you too."

"Yes?" James asked.

"Is Severus Snape a Death Eater or a member of the Order of the Phoenix?"

Rather than answer him immediately James' mouth just opened a little and his head tilted back in surprise, obviously it wasn't the question he was expecting. "That is usually privileged information."

"Oh come on," Harry argued seriously. "Let's just pretend that I'm more astute than the ordinary Hogwarts student."

"You asked the Headmaster about Snape, too, didn't you?" James said in response. "He told Lily and I so the day we first came to the castle to speak with you."

"Yes, I did and I'd really like to know what side he stands on here," was Harry's answer.

"He's not with the Order," James admitted. "Though that is all I know for certain," he glanced down quickly as if deciding on whether or not to continue. "It is my belief that Dumbledore has hired him on as Potions Master all these years in order to keep an eye on him, though he has never confirmed my suspicions. Snape is not a pleasant man, but he is highly intelligent and would be a great source of talent to whoever would be able to have access to it."

Harry nodded in understanding. "So Dumbledore wants him where he can see him, hmm?" He looked James up and down. "You think he is a Death Eater though don't you?" He asked.

Rather than answer, James just nodded. "May I ask why you are so interested in him?"

Deciding to go out on a limb and answer the question, Harry nodded. "I need to know where he stands in this war, because I may need to ask for his help."


	10. Chapter 10: The Night Before and

A Second Chance

By S.L

Chapter Ten: The Night Before and the Morning After

It didn't take long for Harry to learn to adjust to his new life as a tenth-year student at Hogwarts. He generally got along well with everyone and managed as expected in all of his classes.

He was usually partnered up with Hermione in most of their classes, and spent some time studying with her every night in the library. During free time however, he tried to hang out with Ron and his group. So far he had been unsuccessful at bringing the two together for more than thirty seconds without it ending in a fight.

It wasn't the ideal situation, as studying with Hermione became boring, without having Ron there to joke with him and hanging out with Ron became annoying after Ron and the other boys starting heckling one another and making fun of some of the other students. He wasn't sure he liked the way either one of them behaved, but they were his friends, and he was determined to get along with the both of them and anyone else who came between them.

Now they were at school Harry found himself spending more time with both of his siblings, though not by much. He tried to make sure he made it down to breakfast in time to eat with Mare, and spent some time in the afternoon talking with his brother about whatever came to mind. Both, still seemed to only be talking with him out of general politeness to the family, but Harry thought they were coming around to actually enjoying his company. Mare usually sought him out in the morning and more often than not it was Bran who would start up a conversation with him later on in the day.

Seeing his parents on a regular basis, was a different story altogether. Lily was frequently missing from the head table during meals, especially when Dumbledore was not present. The few times Harry had run into her in the halls, she had been in a rush to get to someplace else and had only been able to spare him a second or two to say hello. James was more of a steady figure, as Harry had Defense three times a week, and so they saw one another quite a bit. Class gave them an excuse to talk and Harry sometimes hung out in James' office before or after so they could chat. Ever since they had spoken to one another about Harry's Patronus and Snape, the tension had broken between them. James had become much more friendly and open towards Harry and things were coming along better than Harry could have expected.

As promised, Harry and written to both Sirius and Remus after his first week of school, and had continued with weekly correspondence. It was nice to have someone to write to again, and Sirius' letters were just as anticipated as they had been back in Harry's world. For the first time in years Harry really felt his age.

Of course, Harry wasn't about to fool himself. There was still real work to be done. The homework and classes were trivial, and a nuisance. He got that out of the way as quickly as possible so that when he had free time he could use it to examine the problem at hand; Voldemort.

It had been difficult to piece together, and his information came from (hopefully) subtle questioning, and digging through years of old Daily Prophets in the library. Also he had started his own subscription to the Daily Prophet so he could keep himself as up to date as possible. Sirius, unknowingly, was also providing a bit of information in his letters, by telling Harry what he had been occupying his time as a Auror with, since his winter holiday had ended.

There were certain things that were still in black and white for Harry, but he had managed to piece together the general puzzle. Voldemort here was a much stronger and accepted force than he was in his world. A great deal of his manipulations were achieved through politics. As far as Harry could tell, the majority of the Wizengamot were Dark Wizards and those who were in positions of power were generally corrupt if not suspected Death Eaters. There seemed to be fewer actual attacks, but many reports of a growing army. The Auror's and the Department of Mysteries seemed to be the only branches of the Ministry that were still fighting back against a Dark influence. The Auror's still had to be seen fighting back, and though Harry suspected there would be a spy in their midst, he was sure that they were still trying to do some general good. As for the Department of Mysteries, well, it was as big of a mystery as ever.

There were an alarming number of unsolved murders reported, though not all were officially associated with Death Eaters. Azkaban seemed virtually full and there was a huge population of dark creatures in Britain. Werewolves, vampires, giants, dragons and inferi were all a great deal more common in this world than they had ever been in Harry's. Also, the wizarding communities in Britain were overcrowded. It was very unlikely that any wizardining families lived in the seclusion that they usually preferred. It seemed that only Dark Wizard families, such as the Malfoys lived in relative peace at being well distanced from their neighbors. Though Harry had found out that a few families, such as the Weasley's still lived in their old homes, but they were generally the families that were well recognized for standing out against Voldemort and the Death Eaters and having an unusual amount of protection on their homes.

There was also a huge fugitive community down in Hogsmeade that Harry hadn't even realized. It was where many families who had children in the school, had moved closer in case of emergencies. When things really got bad, Dumbeldore was known for secretly sneaking the families into the school, especially if he knew there was an attack on Hogsmeade coming. Though there were many quotes in the Daily Prophet where Dumbledore denied this, Harry at least, was sure it was true. He had done the same thing, at Dumbledore's urging from his frame, in his world.

It was slow going, as Harry did not want to seem obvious in his search, but he was gaining information none-the-less. Soon he would have to begin to take a more active step, though he still had some time before he would need to make decisions about that.

In the mean time, he had Ginny to worry about.

The girl was driving him absolutely mad, and worse, she knew it. Harry had his suspicions that she was following him, though he knew that sounded silly even in his head. Everywhere he went he seemed to run into her, with and without Malfoy. When he went for a walk in the morning he would run into her on his way out the door, or up in the Owlery, or near the library. They would walk together for a minute, exchanging some light banter, while she just generally teased him and he tried to keep up. They had Potions together, but that was it, and he saw her at meals. At those times she was usually wrapped so close to Malfoy, they were almost one. He was sure he was being especially affectionate to bother him. Often, if he glanced over at the pair he would see her staring back at him with a smile as she leaned forward to kiss Malfoy. It was disgusting, but what was worse was that it was working, because it was starting to get to Harry, despite his better judgement.

Luckily enough, no one else seemed to notice what was going on. The only time they ever spoke to one another was if they ran into each other in an empty corridor. That, Harry suspected, was their house rivalry peeking its head into the situation. Ginny didn't dare be seen interacting with a Gryffindor, as Harry couldn't be seen around a Slytherin. In addition, Harry had made the mistake of asking Ron about his sister only to be treated to a length rant about how much he hated her. If Ron noticed what was going on, Harry was sure their fragile friendship would certainly be jeopardized.

Before Harry knew it, six weeks at Hogwarts had passed.

"So tonight Sirius is coming by for dinner," James told Harry after holding him back after their Friday afternoon class.

They were both sitting in James' office, relaxing for a few minutes before heading down to dinner.

Harry nodded, he knew, Sirius had written him last week to tell hi so.

"He also told me that he's taking you out tonight," James said, maybe hinting at something.

Puzzled, Harry stopped flicking through the book he had been looking at and looked up at James. "Really? We had talked about going out somewhere, but I didn't think we had scheduled anything."

James shrugged and relaxed back in his chair by placing his hands behind his neck and leaning against them. "Well he's taken it into his head that you and him need to get roaring drunk together in order to bond.

At this Harry rolled his eyes and returned to flicking through the book. It was from James' collection, and it was about vampires, Harry found it particularly interesting since a vampire had written it. "I know, he mentioned the same thing to me," Harry told him. "I told him that I wasn't much for anything more than a butterbeer here and there, but he wouldn't listen."

"Eh, just go out," James urged and started spinning around in his chair lazily. It was just that kind of day, the whole castle had that stale feel of nothingness and it was effecting the two Potters. "Sirius is fun to be around, god knows I haven't had the chance to get out with him in a while."

Harry placed a thumb in the book to hold his place and looked at his Dad. "Come along with us then," he said.

As he stopped his spinning by sticking out his leg and catching it against his desk, James made a face. "Not tonight, I'm way too tired. You'll learn that a night with Sirius isn't one you step into lightly."

"Really?" Harry asked. "The Sirius I knew really didn't get out much," Harry widened his eyes at the thought. The Sirius he knew _really_ didn't get out much. Or try not at all, except for the night he died. It was a sobering thought, suddenly Harry very much so wanted to go out with Sirius tonight, any Sirius, even if it was one who wanted to force a great deal of alcohol on him.

"Strange," James commented. "I can't imagine that," just as Harry still had a hard time imagining a Sirius who was able to get out of the house. "Anyways," he continued. "Sirius wants it to be a whole bonding theme, him and his godson, he said."

Harry shrugged. "That's fine, should be fun, in any case."

"We could do something another time though," James added, as an afterthought.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. He and his Dad had grown a lot closer over the past few weeks, but there was still a bit of work to be done. "I'd like that, I think."

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," James called, sitting up very suddenly and adapting a more professional look.

Harry stifled a laugh, flipped open his book and laid back down on his Dad's couch. Sometimes when he was spending time in his Dad's office a student would come by for a few moments and James would have to change attitudes very quickly.

Lily pushed open the door and came into the room smiling. "Good afternonon, boys," she said, giving her husband a quick kiss and then moving to push Harry over on the couch after kissing the top of his head.

Harry moved over gladly, though he still blushed when Lily kissed him like that. It was such a motherly thing to do, and it was hard to explain how much it meant to him. Having Mrs. Weasley around on occasion had been the closest thing Harry had had to experiencing such affection.

"You'll never guess who's coming tomorrow," she told them smiling.

James and Harry exchanged a look as if deciding whether or not to care. James broke first with a soft, "Who?"

Lily smiled widely at them both, not aware of the quick exchange that had just taken place. "Journalists from all the major Newspapers and Magazines in Wizarding Britain. Dumbledore has decided to hold a short press conference. It's nothing particularly special, but Hogsmeade is going to be full of reporters for the entire weekend, and the staff is going to be pictured in at least the Daily Prophet."

"Very cool," James agreed, nodding, but not showing much enthusiasm, though he did seem slightly intrigued.

Harry however groaned aloud, slinked down in the couch and slid the book up to cover his face.

Lifting up the corner of the cover, Lily looked down at him. "What's that for?"

Harry opened his mouth to tell her to try hiding from a town full of people who want to write lies about you and post your picture on the front page, and stopped. Then very suddenly he sat up and smiled. "Nothing, actually, I've just remembered."

His parents exchanged one of the looks they shared whenever Harry talked nonsense that they could attribute to him being from another world. It happened occasionally, where Harry would still forget that something was different, or that a spell didn't exist, or there was a student that hadn't been enrolled in Harry's world.

No one wanted to take his picture here. In fact Harry was willing to bet that he could walk right up to Rita Skeeter and tell her he was hers for an entire afternoon and she would push him aside in disgust. She wouldn't care about him at all- it was wonderful!

"Care to share with the class?" James asked in an amused tone.

"No thanks," Harry said smugly and settled down with a smile. He preferred to keep this one to himself, there was too much explaining to do.

"Okay," Lily said slowly. "So what time is Sirius due for dinner?"

As it turned out, Sirius was late for dinner that night, which apparently wasn't unusual at all. He arrived after the Great Hall started serving so the Potter family had gone down to meet him at the Three Broomsticks instead.

He arrived in good spirits, though he told them that it had been a rough day and a rough couple of weeks. Dinner passed relatively uneventfully, except for a brief uncomfortable moment when Sirius mentioned visiting the grave of his favorite baby cousin Bellatrix Black. Harry had glared at his plate for that part of the conversation and just hoped no one noticed, though silently he thanked whatever power had seen Bellatrix away before she had the chance to turn into a crazy, bloodthirsty Death Eater. But the moment quickly passed, and moved on to better things and before they knew it, Sirius and Harry were watching James, Lily, Mare and Bran marching back up to the castle.

"So, how'd you like to go to the Leaky Cauldron?" Sirius asked.

It had seemed like an innocent question.

Five hours later and Harry was smashed.

Absolutely, and completely smashed and it was all Sirius Black's fault.

True, Harry was no stranger to alcohol, but he had never become drunk for fun, or to celebrate anything before. The only times he could recall ever drinking was after particularly horrible missions when Snape would slam down a bottle of fire whiskey and they would both sit in the dungeon and drink until everything stopped hurting. Then there were the times when Harry would be sitting alone, up in Dumbledore's office, usually after another person he knew had died. When that happened Harry would sit and drink until he passed out, just so he could have a night of sleep that wouldn't be filled with nightmares.

Sirius' introduction to drink was a polar opposite to Snape's usual practice. For the majority of the night Harry had found himself at the Leaky Cauldron sitting up at the bar with Sirius in a crowd of shouting and singing men and women, all just as drunk as he. There was a group of Irish teenagers, just a little younger than Harry in the corner, standing on the table and singing an almost incomprehensible song about a hippogriff, and on the other side of the room a number of French tourists were taunting a couple of old German warlocks. Around Harry were a number of men Sirius' age, all laughing and patting each other on the back, making jokes and trying to see whom could out drink whom. Sirius seemed to be winning so far, he was in the absolute thick of it, singing louder than anyone, making the rudest jokes, waving to absolute strangers across the bar and getting them to join the party.

For the first time in his life Harry had a night on the town, though mostly he spent the night laughing at the others antics. A few times however he found himself singing and at one point he was even dancing with a number of very pretty young witches who had joined in the fun.

Eventually the end of the night found Harry and Sirius stumbling out of the Leaky Cauldron and out into the London streets, doing their best to copy the hippogriff song that the Irish group had been singing.

Though Grimmauld Place was only a few blocks away it took Harry and Sirius over an hour just to make it home. Along the way, Sirius had stopped to get sick, Harry had wandered down a side road, trying to follow a tabby cat he thought was McGonagall, and they had tried to race a passing car and ended up failed miserably.

By the time they got back to Number 12, Harry and Sirius raced into the kitchen where Sirius had proclaimed that he had a half full bottle of rum they could share before they went to bed. It turned out to be a bottle of vodka and it was only about a quarter full, but they greeted it enthusiastically anyways.

"Did-ja know, I have not been _to-o-o_ drunk before?" Harry told Sirius while he watched the older man pour a glass of the clear liquor for him.

Sirius laughed. "No mate, I can tell you haven't, James doesn't drink neither," he responded. "Old fussy biddy." He made a face and did a quick impression of his best friend. It had Harry hiccupping until he fell out of his seat and onto the floor, right in front of the old burner where Kretcher made his home.

Suddenly angry, Harry stood up and kicked the stove hard and then fell back into his seat.

"What was that for?" Sirius asked, shooting back another gulp of vodka.

Harry pulled a face. "Stupid tattletale, bad," Harry managed, somehow having all of that make sense in his mind.

"You're drunk," Sirius told him as a response.

"You're drunk," Harry argued back.

"Nah uh," Sirius argued. "Look what I can do!" Then he promptly began shrinking down from the table until he was a great black dog barking sharply at Harry's heels.

Harry began laughing immediately and watched as Padfoot drunkenly tried to chase his own tail as he stumbled about, tripping over his own feet. With a quick flick of his wrist Harry conjured a ball in his palm and threw it for the dog to catch. Padfoot leapt into the air, mouth open, only to have the ball hit him smack in the middle of his forehead. With a snap Sirius was back on the ground where Padfoot had been, laughing hard.

It was the last thing that Harry remembered, after that the drink began to take over and he couldn't recall doing anything from that moment forward.

When he woke the next morning it was to a blaring headache, and nauseating feeling in his stomach. He hadn't had a hangover this bad in months.

For a while he lay in bed, not even wanting to move, hating every part of his body for feeling so horrible. Even turning his head on the pillow seemed to be too big of a chore. Harry lay aching for quite some time, trying to recall the events of last night, but sometime during the events in the kitchen he must have gone past his limit and blacked out, he couldn't remember a thing.

After an hour or two Harry heard the kettle steaming down in the kitchen and decided that though he probably wasn't ready for any tea yet, he really could go for a tall glass of water, and then maybe he could track down a hangover potion.

Somehow he managed to crawl out of bed, throw on a warm jumper and make his way down the stairs to the kitchen. Sirius was already there, obviously nursing his own hangover, as he leaned over a steaming cup of tea. He flinched as Harry came in and the door slammed against the frame.

Without saying a word Harry poured himself a glass of water and sat down at the table across from Sirius. After a minute Harry had drained the glass and was feeling considerably better, Sirius still looked like absolute hell.

"Got any hangover cures around here?" Harry asked him. Sirius shook his head, it was only about an inch away from hitting the table.

Harry nodded and pulled out his wand and muttered a quick specialized spell so that Sirius wouldn't hear it. It was a password that was connected to his special trunk. Though the trunk was still technically at Hogwarts, he would be able to reach in through the space and collect something from inside. After a second the air in front of Harry seemed to stretch open and he was looking into the contents of his trunk. Sirius peeked up a bit and strained to see what Harry was doing.

Picking up an old book, and trying to use his body to block the majority of the contents from Sirius, Harry picked through until he found a grey padded case and pulled it out of the trunk. Then he took his two fingers and zipped the space of open air shut.

Unfastening the case, Harry opened it to reveal several rows of various colored vials held in bands. He picked out two bright pink ones and handed one to Sirius to drink, while he himself shot back the other one.

The difference was instantaneous. The moment Harry threw back the potions (which tasted oddly like bubblegum) he felt better, perhaps lacking a few hours of sleep, but no trace of a hangover at all.

Sirius too, was instantly changed, as soon as he took the potion he sat up straight and rubbed his head gratefully. "Man, that stuff is good," he said, looking at the vial thoughtfully. "We'd you get this?"

Harry raised his own vial. "Best stuff there is, if it weren't for this, I think I would become sober. The Snape from my world mixed them up for me."

"Hmm," Sirius said interested. "I never thought of that." Then Sirius laughed nervously, suddenly trying to look at anything but Harry.

Something was off, now they were both clean and sober Harry felt it. Sirius wouldn't look him in the eye at all. "Alright spill it, what's going on."

"Nothing, mate," Sirius said awkwardly, "nothing really."

Harry sunk back in his chair. "What did I do? What did I say last night?" Alcohol had never quite agreed with him entirely. Now he was thinking back on it, he remembered that the reason he always drank by himself was because when he was under the influence he had a problem keeping secrets, he was usually all too honest. He hoped he hadn't given away anything too big.

"Well, it wasn't anything really, but," Sirius squirmed under his gaze for another moment before sitting up straight again and looking Harry dead in the eye. "Why didn't you say anything about being a.. uh… parselmouth?"

Cursing himself Harry winced back. "I was speaking it last night then?"

"Yeah," Sirius confirmed. "When we were going up to bed, I kept trying to talk to you, but it came out…"

Harry held up his hand to stop any more conversation. "I know, I know, I'm sorry." He searched for a way to explain it. "Look, I know I would probably have told you, and maybe my parents, and Dumbledore I guess, well anyone really, but," he floundered for words, then decided to lay it all out straight for Sirius. He was his godfather after all.

"See, I don't know _why_ I'm a parselmouth, I don't know _how_, I just know that I am." Harry searched for the words to explain. "Trust me its not a particularly useful bit of magic- unless you're a zookeeper I suppose- but its something I'm stuck with. Unfortunately I know it is also connected to Dark Wizards."

"You-Know-Who is a parselmouth." Sirius stated bluntly.

Harry winced again. "Yeah I know that too, you see it's why I don't usually tell people that I am, too." Harry sighed. "Do you know how I first found out about being a parselmouth?" Sirius raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for Harry to explain himself.

"I was twelve, in my second year at Hogwarts," Harry began. "Dumbledore decided that the students should be given the opportunity to learn how to duel, so he made arrangements for Snape and the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher to hold weekly meetings. Well during one of the lessons, Snape, being the snarky git he is, called Draco Malfoy and myself up on stage to duel one another." Harry rolled his eyes, remembering what a pain the Potions Master had been back then, before they had reached an understanding between them. "It was really just a chance to embarrass me, or try to get me into trouble, or… something like that, I don't know. Anyways he taught Malfoy the snake-summoning spell, because he thought it would scare me enough, so that he could step up and get rid of the snake. Unfortunately the snake got away from the stage and started in on a crowd of students."

Harry shook his head sadly. "I didn't really think, I just ran behind the snake and started yelling at it to stop and stay away from my classmates. I had no idea I was speaking another language, but the snake just stopped and sat curled up until Snape could banish it. Everyone was staring at me and I had no idea what was going on." He looked up at Sirius ironically. "You know I had to wait until Hermione and Ron pulled me out into the hall to demand to know why I hadn't told them I was a parselmouth before I found out what was going on. I didn't even know it was possible to talk to snakes, let alone that only I could do it! I didn't know it was a rare or dark talent at all."

"Look Sirius," Harry said, still trying to get Sirius to understand. "After the school saw me talk to the snake, they thought I was bad, real bad, for a good while. They thought I had been edging the snake on a muggle born student, and that I was associated with the Chamber of Secrets, or Slazar Slytherin, or Lord Voldemort. They found out a few months later that I wasn't of course, but I still went through those few months with everyone hating me." Harry clicked his tongue. "To be perfectly honest, most of the time I forget that I can talk to snakes, it never even occurs to me, but when I do remember, I also know that its not something I care to draw attention to."

He looked at Sirius levelly so that he could be sure he understood this next part. "I am not a Dark Wizard, I am not associated with Voldemort or Slytherin for that manner, but I am a parselmouth. If I go around announcing that, then it's just something else that I have to explain. It's hard enough adjusting to everything being different in this world without alienating myself further. Do you really think that if everyone knew I was a parselmouth that they would just shrug it off and think it was no big deal?"

Considering this heavily Sirius sighed. "I see your point. I can't say I would want to tell anyone either. So you don't know why then?"

Harry shrugged. He actually did suspect that it was from when Voldemort had cursed him as a baby, but he had no real evidence of that. Even Dumbledore had never found out why he was a parselmouth.

"Huh," then Sirius smiled. "Alright then, I'll buy it. So tell me, have you ever really set a snake on anyone?"

Harry laughed and smiled with Sirius. "Actually I went to the zoo when I was ten with the Dursleys and accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley, but I didn't know there was such a thing as magic then, and I didn't know that not everyone could talk to snakes. Besides he wanted to see Brazil."

Sirius laughed and then tapped his chin. "That has definite possibilities then. Very wicked," Sirius responded. "Definite possibilities indeed."

Harry shook his head, it figured that Sirius could jump from thinking Harry was Dark to thinking about using his ability to trick someone. "I'm not sending a snake after anyone, Sirius. It doesn't work that way. I only have the ability to talk with snakes, not get them to do whatever I say. I just know a different language is all."

"So, potentionally you could use them to spy couldn't you?" Sirius asked, now going in a completely different direction.

Harry thought about it for a second, sure the thought had crossed his mind before, but there were major flaws. "Not necessarily, Sirius. I mean- like I said, I can _talk_ to snakes, I can't get them to do what I say. Even if I could manage to hold a snakes attention long enough to spy, they see things differently than we do, and they wouldn't be able to understand what people were saying around them. The information would be essentially useless. Besides they have very short attention spans. A snake would be more likely wander off task and never be seen from again."

"Pity," Sirius said, letting go of that idea. "So it really is a useless bit of magic isn't it?"

"Yeah, I told you so. I never quite understood why it was associated with Dark Magic. I suppose just because Voldemort goes around with that great big snake and because it's linked with Slytherin, but really- what good does talking to a snake really do for you? Other than knowing that no one around you can tell what is going on, you would have that aspect of mystery to invoke, I guess."

Sirius leaned back in his chair and stretched. "Well then forget I said anything Harry, I guess I won't tell anyone about it, but I don't think James and Lily would mind hearing about it from you when you get the chance."

This Harry had thought about. "I think you're right Sirius, but I'm not sure I am ready to get into that yet. Like I said I'm still getting used to things in this world, and I'd rather take it gradually then spill everything on everyone at once. Sometimes it seems hard enough to be accepted for the few things people already do know about me." Harry shook his head sadly. "It really is far more difficult than I had imagined."

"Yeah," Sirius said, while pouring himself another cup of tea. "I can't think how hard that must be, you're having a difficult time with it then?"

Harry shrugged. "You could say that, I mean this is the life that I wanted, it's the one I _want_ to become adjusted too, it's only that- its so _different_. People treat me completely different here, and the people that I was close to in my world don't know that we were ever acquainted, or the ones that I am acquainted with here are so dissimilar its like meeting them all over again and becoming friends with entirely new people."

"Am I different?" Sirius asked, now pouring Harry a cup of tea.

At this Harry hesitated. Of course Sirius was different, Sirius was probably the most changed out of anyone Harry had met so far. "Its really very difficult to compare, I mean you led a completely different life in my world, there's no way you could have turned out the way you are now."

"Really?" Sirius asked, looking very intently interested. "How so?"

"I mean, you have to understand Sirius, that your life in my world was much darker. You suffered a lot more from Voldemort than you do now." Harry lowered his voice. "Things were very unfair for you."

"Ah," Sirius said, now looking a little sad. "Is that why I wasn't the one raising you after-" he squirmed a bit in his seat, not wanting to say the words.

"Yeah," Harry said uncomfortably. "I never even knew I had a godfather until I was thirteen. Even after that I only really knew you for two years before-"

"I died?" Sirius asked. Then he looked down at the steam rising from his cup of untouched tea.

Harry took the opportunity to take a swig from his own cup and let the hot liquid rejuvenate him a bit. Even though Sirius was standing right across from him, he still couldn't help but feel the sting that always followed any thought of his Sirius, the one who had died in the Department of Mysteries.

"Were we close, Harry?" Sirius asked frankly.

Harry bit his lip and then he nodded. "Yeah, we were. Like I said we didn't know each other for very long, but you know- you helped me out a lot."

"Yeah?" Sirius asked. Harry was shocked to see that Sirius' eyes had become very saddened, a look that was out of place on this usually chipper Sirius, and would have been more at home on the shallow, sunken looking Sirius Harry had known. "I'm glad I was help to someone."

"You were Sirius," Harry said, somehow, now anxious to try and make this Sirius feel better. "You were the only person outside Hogwarts who cared about me, the only little bit of family I had. Whenever I had any problems at all you did absolutely anything to make sure you could help me out." Sirius looked up a bit, smiling.

"That's really good to hear Harry," Sirius said. "I mean things are good for me here, but sometimes I just wonder, you know?" Now Sirius seemed to be talking more to the table than to Harry. "I mean James and I are good friends, but really he's so busy with his own life and family that we usually don't get to see one another much. To be honest," he looked up at Harry ironically. "Since you came back into the picture I've seen him more than I have in years. It used to be just birthdays and holidays, and the occasional Order meeting. This is the first time I think since we graduated Hogwarts that I've been around any more than that.

"And Remus," Sirius looked sad again. "God knows I love the man, but being a werewolf and all really makes it difficult for him. For all that he lives here, he's always wandering off, like his is right now, or hid up in his room. I haven't seen him in days, and I don't even know where he is, but," he shrugged. "He's like that. I mean, I still stay with him as Padfoot for his transformations, but… James is usually too busy with the kids, or school, or something to come. He makes it when he can, at least a few times a year, I suppose we couldn't ask for more than that."

Suddenly Harry saw something of his Sirius in this one. Sure, his Sirius had felt trapped after he had escaped from Azkaban, when he wasn't allowed to leave the house or interact with anyone who wasn't in the order, but this Sirius felt trapped by the world. He was trapped into a life where he had to watch everyone else change and move on while he was staying the same. "But you have your job right? And you get to do work for the Order?"

Sirius shrugged. "You know, I always thought I wanted to be an Auror, but really its not what its cracked out to be. Mostly it's just following false reports and chasing after Death Eaters who elude you at every turn. Nothing ever seems to happen! As for the Order," he shrugged again. "Its important work, but its always the same with Voldemort, he's always one step ahead of us."

"I had no idea you felt that way Sirius," Harry said honestly. "I thought you really enjoyed yourself, what about Bran?"

Sirius smiled widely then. "Yes well, Bran. Bran I love with all my heart. Sometimes I think he's the only one who really understands what's going on with me. He's always writing about some new trick or plan and asking for my opinions." He smiled at Harry. "I guess kind of like what I did for you in your world."

Harry's smile faltered. Here Sirius wrote to his godson about pranks, in Harry's world he had written about Voldemort, nightmares and warnings. It was not at all the same thing. "Not really, there wasn't much time for jokes back then."

For a moment Sirius stared silently at Harry. "Things were pretty dark then huh?"

Harry just nodded.

"So how did I kick the bucket?" Sirius asked, trying vainly to sound good-natured, but he was failing miserably, Harry could detect the bitter undertone underneath it.

Harry swallowed. "You were killed in a rescue mission, trying to save me." He shook his head, as the memories came flooding back in. "I was lured to the Ministry one night when a group of Death Eaters had broken in and uh," he swallowed again. "It was me and a couple of other students, so Dumbledore found out and he, and you and some of the other order members showed up and uh," Harry closed his eyes, then snapped them back open. "It was hell, our side ended up capturing the Death Eaters and clean things up, but," Harry looked Sirius in the eye. "You died. It was Bellatrix Lestrange, well Bellatrix Black, but she didn't die when she was a little girl in my world and ended up marrying Lestrange," now Harry's tone was sharp and full of hate.

"What?" Sirius asked, a little startled. "Bella, my cousin? But she wasn't a Death Eater, I told you about her last night. She died when I was little." He stopped as he realized something. "So that's why you got all quiet at dinner last night when I mentioned going to her grave last week."

"Yes," Harry answered stiffly. "Look, I know things are different in this world, but there are some things I just can't let go, you know? Watching her kill you was definitely one of them, I don't care how good she was Sirius, I won't ever be able to get that picture out of my head."

"Yeah," Sirius answered blankly, obviously mulling things over too. "She was a Death Eater then?"

"Voldemort's number one lady actually," Harry said bitterly. "We got her though, when all was said and done. We didn't let her get away with that."

"Huh," Sirius said and propped his arms up on his elbow so they rested on the table. "It's amazing how different things could have been."

"Yes it is, isn't it," Harry agreed. Then he looked around the house. He hadn't taken the opportunity to really look at Grimmauld Place last night, he had been far too drunk, but now he could appreciate some of the subtle changes that had taken place. It looked cleaner, more lived in, more loved. "So why are you living in this place? I thought you had another house that you bought after Hogwarts."

Sirius looked around the room himself, and them settled for resting his head on his waiting hands. "Yes, well, I pretty much gave that to Dumbledore. He let's families stay there after their homes are destroyed by Voldemort, at least until they find somewhere else to go."

"Really?" Harry asked, very surprised by this. In his world Dumbledore had a few such places, that Harry later adopted to use in the same manner, but he hadn't expected Sirius to.

"Yeah," Sirius said, with touch of pride. "Occasionally I share this house with people too. It's the only reason I really live here. Otherwise it's just too big to have alone. Usually there's a family or two camping out for a few weeks, but things have been unusually quiet over the past month or two."

Harry nodded and looked down at his watch. It was nearly two in the afternoon, he groaned. "Merlin it's late, what time do you think we got in last night?"

As an answer, Sirius just snorted. "Who knows, mate," he said. "But you should probably be getting back to Hogwarts. Lily will kill me if you disappear for the whole weekend."

"Yeah, I suppose so," Harry said, and gathered up his case of potions and looked around for his cloak. It was laying on the floor by the sink, and was half drenched and covered in mud. He used a few quick cleaning and drying spells and then wrapped it around him.

"Thanks Sirius," he said, holding his hand out to say goodbye. Sirius smiled at him and pulled him into a big bear hug, they separated quickly. "It was fun."

"Yeah," Sirius agreed, as if it were nothing. "You should come by another night, we'll see if we can't drag that bore of a Dad of yours out."

"Sure thing," Harry agreed, then with a soft crack he Disapperated.


	11. Chapter 11: A Surfeit of Slytherins

A Second Chance

By S.L

Chapter Eleven: A Surfeit of Slytherins

He reappeared only moments later in Hogsmeade and took the time during the short walk back to the castle to think things through. Sirius really was very different from the man Harry had once known, but it wasn't in a bad way. Actually, Harry thought that he probably had a lot more in common with this Sirius, and they would probably end up closer than ever. At least he hoped so.

Harry was halfway through his next thought when he caught sight of a green-cloaked figure ahead of him. She was slim and had familiar red hair. Inwardly, Harry didn't know whether to smile or to groan. Instead he watched as Ginny threw a look over her shoulder, caught sight of Harry and paused to wait for him.

"Well, if it isn't the new Potter boy," she said in a silky tone. "Not up for a day in Hogsmeade with the rest of your family?"

Harry closed the rest of the distance between them with a few short steps and gestured for her to keep pace with him. "I had forgotten it was a Hogsmeade day actually," he said and he had. It wasn't like it mattered anyways, Hogsmeade usually lost its appeal around your sixth year, and after you'd been there so many times that nothing was really new anymore.

"Is that so," Ginny said, and rubbed her bottom lip gently with two fingers.

"What about you?" He asked, trying not to watch what she was doing. "No date scheduled with that boyfriend of yours at Madam Puddifoots?"

To his pleasure, Ginny seemed to loose her smile at that comment. "Yes, well, Puddifoot's really isn't my style. Besides Draco's father is at Hogwarts today for the press conference. He's on the Board of Governor's you know," she told him.

"Right," Harry said in understanding. "So he let you out to play all by yourself?"

She shot him a look and sneered. It was a disgusting habit that this Ginny had, and something the Ginny that Harry had known would never do. "Clever Potter, very nice. I didn't think you Gryffindor's were allowed to be rude."

Harry blinked, but didn't answer. Girls confused him enough as it was, but Ginny was just downright incomprehensible.

"Actually," Ginny admitted after a moment. "Draco doesn't know where I am right now. I wanted to meet an old friend of mine for tea."

"Who?" Harry asked, very interested. Who on earth would this Ginny give up Draco Malfoy for?

Ginny sucked in her cheeks, bit her lip, and had the decency to look hesitant. "If it's not my boyfriend's business, it's hardly yours."

"Fine, fine," Harry said, though his curiosity was only piqued. "Maybe you'll tell me when you're more comfortable around me," he smiled, but kept his gaze straight so he wouldn't have to look at her.

She missed a step and had to give a little hop to catch up. "More comfortable? What makes you think I want to be comfortable in your presence, Potter?"

This time he turned his head and flashed her the smile that had won him the Most Charming Smile Award for the past two years running, back in his world anyway. "Well, for one thing I'm a Gryffindor and you're still talking to me. For another, you like me."

A strange look crossed Ginny's features. At first she tried to look like she was very cross, then she looked a little amused, but she didn't settle on either one. She compromised by raising an eyebrow and walking faster so that Harry then had to hurry to keep up.

"So you seem to think I like you, Potter?" She said after a moment, they were on Hogwarts grounds now, nearing the castle.

Harry smiled widely again, it wasn't very often that he got to be the one with the upper hand in their brief talks. "Oh, I know you do. If you didn't like me, you wouldn't be talking to me at all."

She turned her head slightly so that he caught sight of her lips turning upwards. "You look like hell," she settled on, for her next comment.

Instead of taking offence Harry laughed and ran a hand through his messier-than-usual hair. "I'm afraid I was out all night at the pubs, and my dashing good looks weren't the first thing on my mind this morning."

Ginny snorted, but then composed herself quickly. "So you fancy yourself dashing do you?"

In response Harry just used one hand to toss his hair back. "Unbelievably so," he sighed as he spoke, then he smiled to see if she would laugh.

He hadn't quite managed a laugh, but she was smiling fully now, and her lips were parted just a bit. "Well maybe, but only just a little," she conceded, her voice was very soft, and lacked all of the harness that Harry had become used to hearing in her Slytherin trained tone. "If I were feeling generous of course," she added as an after thought, her voice back to normal.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The shout carried across the distance and both Harry and Ginny's gaze shot immediately to the front doors where Malfoy was standing, flanked by his usual lackeys, Crabbe and Goyle. He looked furious, his usually pale features were stained pink with anger, and his hands were balled up as fists at his side.

Ginny changed noticeably. All color drained out of her already pale face, and her express flickered to that of outright terror before amending itself into a blank sort of look.

They both paused in their walk to the front door and waited for the three Slytherins to stride forward instead.

"What are you doing out of the castle _and_ with this ass, when I've been looking for you?" he snapped, and then he glared at Harry. "And what are you doing with my girlfriend, Potter?"

Up until that moment Harry and Malfoy had managed to avoid one another pretty completely. Malfoy had made a few passing comments about his family that Harry had ignored, but other than that the main Slytherin-Gryffindor, tenth-year feud was saved for Malfoy and Ron.

Shocked by how quickly events had managed to change, Harry rocked back on his heels. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize there was a problem with talking to her. Is it just Gryffindor's she's not allowed to converse with or people in general?" Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ginny look down at the ground in shame, he had touched on something there, maybe Malfoy really didn't let her talk to other people. Perhaps that was why they only ever spoke when no one else was around, not just because of the Slytherin-Gryffindor thing.

"I don't like your attitude Potter," Malfoy said, and gestured to the two bulging idiots behind him, "and neither do my friends. If you ever go near my girlfriend again, we're going to demonstrate just how much we don't like you. If you ever so much as speak to her again, you'll have me to deal with. I'm warning you Potter," he spat.

Then he reached forward and grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her over away from Harry and next to him. For her part Ginny looked completely embarrassed and ashamed. Harry watched this with a tinge of surprise; the Ginny he knew would never let someone treat her like that. She had been nothing, but a strong woman her entire life. This wasn't right at all.

Something inside Harry snapped, it had been a good long while since he had something like this to entertain himself with. His wand was in his hand in an instant and pressed across the distance, just inches away from Malfoy's throat. "And this is me warning you, Malfoy," Harry hissed, and when a parselmouth hisses, he _hisses_.

"Get your wands out you idiots," Malfoy growled to Crabbe and Goyle. The pair pulled theirs out on his orders and pointed them hesitantly at Harry.

"What spells do we use?" Goyle asked dumbly.

Harry chuckled as he watched Malfoy wince. "So sorry, do you want to wait and do this later, once you'd had the time to train up those pair of circus monkey's you've got? I sure hope the ringmaster didn't make you pay too much for 'em, I know the muscles look real, but they're really nothing without a bit of brain to back them up. This is the wizarding world after all."

Absolute hatred seeped from Malfoy's eyes.

"I'll tell you what," Harry continued through gritted teeth. "_You_ can have your chance here and now," he took a step back and let his wand drop to his side. "Let's deal with one another today, in fact let's duel with one another now, get it all out of the way while we're both here, what do you say?"

If it was possible, Malfoy's face paled even more and he looked back for some support. He didn't find it from either Crabbe or Goyle, who were both the same lumbering idiots they always were, neither did he find it in his girlfriend. Ginny was being unusual quiet and seemed content to just stand off to the side and watch the show unfold. Though, Harry managed to catch her eye for moment, and was surprised to find that she gave him a worried little smile when he did so. Otherwise she just looked, plain scared.

"Well Malfoy?" Harry asked. "What was it you told me last week? Something about me being a pathetic excuse for a wizard… ah, you know, I really can't remember your eloquent wording. I think you were trying to tell me that since I had never been to school before that I wouldn't know my wand from my ass- but hey, I'm not sure I was able to grasp the _delicacy_ of your _subtle_ insults."

Decided, Malfoy pulled out his wand and walked towards Harry, looking angry once again.

"Oh, come on now," Harry said, clicking his tongue against the rough of his mouth, he was backing up as well, making sure that a distance would be put between them and the three onlookers. "It's generally customary to bow to your opponent, Malfoy. Or didn't your father teach you that?"

Harry demonstrated by bowing gracefully to Malfoy as he watched the other boy jerk his body forward as an afterthought.

Then somehow it had started. Though it was Malfoy who threw the first spell, he never had a chance. Harry had raised his wand, and then without a word a blue light had streaked across the distance and enveloped Malfoy. The other boy's wand immediately flew to Harry's hand and Malfoy was knocked a few feet backwards, landing on his back in the muddy, slushy remains of the winter's last snow.

Harry walked forward as Crabbe and Goyle rushed to their leader's aid. They lifted each of his arms and hauled him into a standing position again. Harry gave him a disappointed shake of his head. "You weren't even putting any effort into that, Malfoy," he said sadly, he really was disappointed. He had at least hoped that Malfoy would be able to come up with something a little more interesting; he really wasn't an unintelligent wizard if you got down to it.

"Give me my wand, Potter," Malfoy demanded with a snarl.

Harry took one more step forward so that only a few hand spans stood between the pair of them, he ignored Crabbe and Goyle entirely. "First allow me to make myself clear," he growled. "I can speak with whomever I want, and you have no effect what-so-ever on that, and next time you chose to pick a fight with me- or anyone," he added. "You had better be prepared to follow through." He gave Malfoy a nasty smile. "It's a wicked world out there, Malfoy, I'd hate to see you take on more than you can handle." In fact, Harry remembered quickly, the Malfoy in his world had done just that, and ended up getting himself killed for it.

Without a word Malfoy grabbed for the wand that Harry offered to him and started walking back to Ginny. Harry watched as he grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her along with him, she didn't even say a word as he dragged her back up the stairs and into the castle, she didn't even look back at him. Harry hung his head sadly, there were more differences to this Ginny than he had realized. It wasn't only that she was a Slytherin; there was something more than a bad relationship going on between her and Malfoy. She had lost her spirit.

Suddenly, Harry didn't much feel like going back into the castle. For the momentary amusement out of taunting and playing with Malfoy he had just managed to make himself feel worse. Maybe he shouldn't have done anything to him. Now, Harry just hoped that he wouldn't go and take his anger out on Ginny, if he did that, Harry didn't know how he would be able to forgive himself.

Harry was just getting ready to stand up and make his way inside when a new figure approached from around the school and started trudging up to the entrance. Recognizing her immediately, Harry decided to hang on a moment.

Luna Lovegood approached slowly, but waved as she noticed Harry sitting on the stairs outside the entrance.

"Good afternoon," she said hauntingly. "Have you seen Ginny Weasley?"

Startled at the question Harry nodded. "Yeah, a few minutes ago, I guess. She left with Malfoy, I think," he added.

Sighing heavily, Luna shook her head. "I figured she'd forget to wait for me, if you see her again can you tell her I came by?"

Harry promised Luna that he would and then watched her walk back into the castle.

So that was whom Ginny had gone to meet in Hogsmeade for tea. Interesting.

The press conference was ending by the time Harry made his way into the great hall. There were students milling about everywhere, watching the proceedings excitedly. Also the room was bursting with reporters, many of which Harry recognized. They were all crowding around some of the professors, Dumbledore and a few high ranking Ministry officials. So great were his old instincts, that Harry actually ducked behind a house table when Rita Skeeter walked by, raking her lime green manicured nails through the air to beckon her trailing photographer.

"Scared of getting your picture taken?" James asked with a laugh as he hauled Harry up from the back of his collar. "Can't say I blame you," he added, adjusting his own formal robes. The staff just had their picture taken with Dumbledore, and Lily made me play dress up."

Harry giggled a little nervously as he realized what he had just done. "Old habits die hard, I suppose," he said and glanced to where Rita Skeeter had drawn up next to a pinched faced McGonagall. From the sugary look on Rita's face Harry assumed that the fact that McGonagall wasn't giving much by means of answers wasn't settling her back. In fact, her familiar lime green quick quotes quill was dancing across the parchment book that was held open in Rita's hands. McGonagall was eyeing it angrily.

"What?" James asked, a little lost, he wasn't looking in Rita's direction at all. He seemed to have his gaze focused on his wife, who was standing attentively at Dumbledore's side, taking notes with a respectable, dark blue quick quotes quill.

"Rita Skeeter," Harry said absently as he realized, giddily, that he didn't have anything to hide from her anymore. "But, I guess I don't have to worry about her anymore. She won't have any reason to want to interview me."

James' attention seemed to snap back in Harry's direction. "You knew Rita Skeeter?" His tone was entirely dry and doubtful.

Harry didn't like to admit it, but he was rather offended that his father's voice sounded so skeptical. It was a passing feeling, however, and a pointless one at that, Harry then admitted to himself. It was possible that perhaps some of the vanity from being the Boy-Who-Lived for so long had managed to penetrate, if only slightly so. Harry wasn't sure he liked the realization, and shook it off to concentrate on his father's question again.

Quickly deciding that there was no point, and no real reason to explain, Harry just shrugged and dragged his eyes off the offending woman.

James didn't seem to care at Harry's lack of a response. "Anyways, I wanted to ask how Sirius' place was last night? Did you guys have fun?"

Again, Harry settled on a shrug, but then realized that a more adequate response would be necessary this time. "We went out for a bit to the Leaky Cauldron. It was fun, but nothing terribly special." In truth he had all but forgotten about Sirius since his interlude with Ginny and Malfoy. "It was nice to see Sirius again though, I really do want to be able to spend more time with him, when I can."

His mind focused back on Malfoy again, Harry recalled something from earlier that afternoon and glanced quickly around the room and pointed. "What _is_ Lucius Malfoy doing here?" He asked his Dad bitterly.

Malfoy Senior, not looking any different than he had in Harry's world (before his Azkaban days that is), was chatting in a group of bored looking wizards. Though Harry did not immediately recognize them all, he did assume that they were the rest of the Governors from the Board, and he was almost positive that a good number of them were Death Eaters.

"Ah, so you know him, too," James said, his voice taking on a flat tone. "He's on the Board, so he is permitted on school property during any sort of authorized gathering that Dumbledore announces. None of the Governors miss out of press conferences, as rare as Dumbledore allows them. It's one of the perks of the job, I guess."

Perhaps it had something to do with the force of the glare that Harry was shooting in Malfoy's direction, but suddenly the man turned and gave him a long penetrating look. Then his eyes flickered away and Harry followed them to see Draco Malfoy enter the room and make his way towards his father through the crowd. Crabbe, Goyle and Ginny were all absent, Harry noted.

"Great," Harry said to his own father. "I think things are about to get nasty."

James shot Harry a look. "What are you talking about, Harry?"

Feeling a little guilty now about his earlier outburst, Harry turned to his Dad and gave him a nervous smile. "Er- I kind of lost control of my temper earlier."

Harry wasn't sure if the look on James' face was curious, or apprehensive, but obviously the older man didn't quite know how to react. Since Harry had been in this world, he hadn't really caused any real trouble and had been relatively passive in all activities. It was probably correct to assume that James wouldn't be sure how to handle reprimanding a son he had only just met, or even if he should. From past experience Harry knew that both James and Lily did not even hesitate to immediately confront Bran about any issues, they expected him to have numerous brushes with rule breaking.

"I mean," Harry went on. "That I had a run in with Draco Malfoy earlier and I think that judging by that exchange, he is playing tell-tattle with his father."

Indeed Draco did seem to be eagerly telling his father something and both father and son were shooting periodic glares in the Potter's direction.

"Merlin, Harry, tell me this happened with anyone other than Draco Malfoy," James groaned, though he too had noticed the Malfoy family's sudden interest in the two of them.

Feeling almost guilty, Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'm afraid so. Listen," he said a little hurriedly since Malfoy son and senior were making their way across the room. "Just let me talk to them both and ignore whatever I say, don't interrupt or contradict me, I have some experience with this lot."

A firmly gripping hand settled around Harry's shoulder, though Harry could sense the restraint that James was applying. "Harry, if you've had _any_ entanglement with _either_ Malfoy, then you'd better end it there and allow _me_ to clean this mess up. I don't think you know _what_ you've potentially done, or _what_ you could potentially do and our family _cannot_ afford any ill attention at this point." The words came out in a very low voice, James' fingers pointing out the stresses in his words through tight clenches.

"You will release me," Harry hissed, using the dangerous voice for the second time that day, and one he hadn't had to use since coming to this world. Though he realized that he had had an error in judgment in dueling with Malfoy, James did not know that Harry was more than capable of taking care of himself. Then Harry realized that the only reason James didn't know this, was because Harry had been taking all precaution in making sure that James had no way of knowing this. "Please," he added in a gentler tone, a little shocked with himself for jumping to anger so fast, and watched as James reluctantly removed his hand.

A moment later, before Harry and James even had the chance to break their heated gaze, and Lucius Malfoy drew up short of the pair of them. His son was a step behind him. They were both smiling. It looked like a strain on the delicate Malfoy features.

"Well, well," Lucius began in a tone Harry had hoped to never hear again. "If it isn't Potter and his new- _nephew_," the word was stretched through his lips, followed by a quirk of a smile.

Harry resisted the urge to smile at that. The clever little bastard, so Voldemort and his Death Eaters had figured out more than he had realized. How had they managed that, he wondered? His gaze flickered briefly to where Snape stood against the wall, sipping a goblet and watching the display with an interested smirk. Harry glared back.

"Malfoy," James addressed the other through tight lips, though he was being much more polite than Harry would have expected. Deciding not to say anything himself yet, Harry settled on exchanging a long look with Draco Malfoy. To his delight though the other boy looked utterly smug with himself, he recoiled slightly at the wink that Harry sent his way to unnerve him.

"It seems that our _boys_," again with the slight stress, "Exchanged words earlier this morning." James spared Harry one more look, which Harry pointedly ignored. "I am afraid," Lucius, continued, "That I must inform you that my son feels unsafe in any environment that contains your hostile nephew. As a Governor of the Hogwarts, I feel that I am going to have to report the altercation to the Board so that the other Governors can assess whether or not they want a loose cannon like Harry Potter among their sons and daughters." The smile got faker. "We have rules against dueling in place for a reason, and you of all people should be able to instill such values, _Professor_ Potter. It was only a small miracle Draco wasn't more severely harmed. In fact," he glanced slyly down at his son. "Perhaps he might be harmed more than he has even had chance to realize."

Ah, Harry realized, so now we have the threat. He spared Draco Malfoy a look. So, he was willing to pull another incident such as he had during their third year when he declared that Buckbeak had attacked him.

Beside him, James opened his mouth to prepare a response, but when nothing immediately came out, Harry stepped forward.

"That, of course, would be entirely up to you Governor Malfoy," Harry said as politely as he was able to manage. "However, were it to come up, I'm afraid that I would have to explain the situation in entirely truthfulness. With a memory or a bout of veritaserum- I am entirely willing to admit to the truth, the fault was my own. Though," he smiled a little at the lock on Lucius' face. "I think that in doing so, your son's, let's say- less than _ideal_ performance, would be revealed."

Draco stopped smiling and began scowling at Harry instead. To his delight, Lucius hesitated and the smile started to drop as he gave his son a look from the corner of his eye. "What about my son's performance?"

At that moment James chose to make a strangled sort of sound, so Harry held up a hand to silence him and smiled at the two Malfoys. "You know, I'm sure that you don't know this, but I have a great interest in dueling and the styles that certain types of people gravitate towards using." He paused so that his next sentence could achieve the full impact. "Your average Death Eater for instance," it hit the mark. James paled, Draco's eyes widened and Lucius' left eye had begun to twitch.

"Of course you wouldn't know about this, but while Death Eaters tend to work around the Unforgiveables and make their way to the killing curse, they would never even fathom starting out a duel with on. They start off gradual, using torture and pain curses, any hex that will cause their opponent the most discomfort, but at all times they strive to achieve and maintain control and when their victim is completely broken down, they finish it." Harry's voice had become very soft, until his listeners nearly had to strain to hear him.

He looked up again with renewed vigor. "Auror's on the other hand," he said, lips twitching back into a smile. "Auror's do the exact opposite. They never strive for death and would greatly hesitate to use any type of curse that would cause pain. Rather, defensive spells are used, anything that will hamper their opponent, that will immobilize them long enough to be taken into custody.

"And then, there is your son," Harry had an outright smile on his face now. "Clever little Draco Malfoy," he shook his head in amazement. "Like father like son, eh, Governor?" He told Lucius before continuing. "I didn't think he had it in him, but he was so angry he actually tried to _kill_ me, didn't you Malfoy?"

Lucius was all but shaking in rage now, and Draco Malfoy cowered at his side. "I don't know what he's talking about father."

Thankfully James remained silent, so Harry took a step forward so his face was only inches from Lucius' own. "_If_ you so decide to take this up with the Board, I will request that we take a look at the spells Draco used during our little exchange. _If_ that were to happen I'm sure the rest of the Board would be startled to discover your son's use of the topmost Unforgiveable curse on a student who merely used a disarming charm to defend himself. On Hogwarts grounds no less. But that is only _if_ that were to happen."

As Harry relaxed back, Lucius' lip curled up in disgust. "I think we are done here, Potter, for now. But don't think I won't forget this, the Malfoy family is a dangerous enemy."

Almost maniacally Harry smiled. "I look forward to our next meeting Malfoy, perhaps you will prove more of a challenge than your-" he smirked at Draco, "son."

The two Malfoy's exited their presence, and the Great Hall as quickly as possible. Without watching them leave, Harry turned and looked for a place to sit, and found one at the table James had caught him hiding behind only minutes before. Then he looked up at see James' reaction.

James Potter looked absolutely livid. His jaw was clenched so tightly that his cheeks were turning white. Harry winced as he waited for the inevitable onslaught.

"_What did you think you were doing_?" He managed after a moment's hesitation.

"I don't know yet," Harry said thoughtfully, and it was true, he didn't. He glanced around the room again, eyes falling back on Rita Skeeter, now assaulting a cheerful looking Dumbledore. Ideas were starting to click into his head, desperately trying to arrange themselves in the proper place until things started dropping into place. So much had happened this day, already, but he could make this work. His talk with Ginny, his duel with Draco, this press conference, his talk with Lucius… this could all work to his advantage, he just had to think quickly enough. That was what he was best at after all, right? Getting himself out of the sticky situations he didn't have the sense to avoid in the first place? It was part of being a Gryffindor.

"_You don't know_?" James continued, interrupting his thoughts. Harry knew he needed to be dealt with, but if he was going to salvage the situation he needed a moment to think. "What was all that you were spewing about Death Eaters and Auror's?"

"Oh, that," Harry said, it was an easy enough question. "That was absolutely rubbish, I made it up. Could you possible imagine Sirius holding back from using a few violent curses on a Death Eater given the opportunity? Of course not," he said answering his own question. "Auror's are defensive in the least- they're supposed to be, but they're not."

"Harry-" James started, threateningly.

Rather than let him continue, Harry held up a hand. "Not just yet," Harry said, things were starting to make sense now. "I've got to take care of something first and then you can yell your bloody head off at me, I promise."

Then without waiting for a response Harry sucked in a deep breath and ran across the room in an urgent manner, Rita Skeeter was just starting to turn away from Dumbledore.

"Headmaster!" He cried, arriving next to Dumbledore out of breath. "Headmaster, I need to talk to you immediately!" He didn't both to keep his voice down.

Lily stood at the Headmaster's side, putting away her quills into her satchel, but she looked up at Harry in surprise. Dumbledore raised his arm to keep her from saying anything, and nodded seriously at Harry instead.

"It's about," Harry looked off to one side and leaned in conspiringly. "Well it's about that _thing_ we talked about earlier."

"Of course Harry," Dumbledore said, playing along. "Shall we talk in the hall, no need to follow us Lily, this is a highly privet manner."

Relieved that Dumbledore had caught on enough to be able to play along Harry followed Dumbledore out of the Great Hall and out into the corridor. He turned around in time to see his Mum and Dad come together, heads bent in concern as they watched Harry leave the room. His stomach clenched, Merlin he hoped he knew what he was doing.


	12. Chapter 12: I Am Not My Brother's Keeper

A Second Chance

By S.L

Chapter Twelve: I Am Not My Brother's Keeper

Bran Potter was not having a good day. Scratch that, he was not having a good _year_. Currently, the worst of his problems was staring down its great ugly nose at him.

He knew that he should be listening to whatever Snape's latest rant about him was, but instead he found himself inordinately fascinated by the way his goatee was beginning to turn up on the end. Did he actually take the time to curl it himself? Bran resisted a shudder as he imagined the hygienically challenged potions master carefully curling his goatee every morning. Then, did he actually apply the slick to his greasy hair himself? Or did he just choose not to bathe? Momentarily, Bran thought about suggesting to Snape to speak with Madam Pomfrey about his habits. All students in their third year were treated to a lecture on 'their changing bodies' and the importance of daily showers and deodorant. Perhaps Snape had missed that day- certainly his slightly slimy complexion certainly suggested that.

"Are you even listening to me, Potter?" said Snape his voice rising much higher than Bran was sure was normal. He almost sounded a bit like his mum, but he wasn't sure his professor would take too kindly to the comparison.

"Er, yes, sir?" Bran said, hoping Snape wouldn't ask him to repeat any part of what he had just said as he so often did in class.

Thankfully, Snape did not feel like quizzing him further and instead sneered. Bran blinked at him, trying to figure out just how he managed to raise his lip like that, he practically had the move trademarked. "Detention, Potter," he said. "And I will be speaking to your father about remedial potions."

"Remedial _what_?" Bran sputtered, as the other swept away, no longer willing to waste a single moment on him. As Bran watched him leave, stopping only to take ten points from a first year Hufflepuff for chewing gum, he rather wished he had been paying attention. He had thought that Snape had only stopped him in the hall to discuss his latest prank on the Slytherins, so when had remedial potions been thrown into the mix?

Not that he needed the extra thing to tip the scales of his day, but Bran used this latest knowledge to fuel his negative mood. When he passed the unlucky Hufflepuff girl, he shot her a contemptuous look just to make himself feel better, even though he knew she had probably already received far worse from Snape.

Luckily, once he made it to the Great Hall, dinner was already being served, so it helped to put a slight jump in his step. Tonight was fish and chips since the elves hadn't much time to prepare the meal due to the overlong press conference that had been held earlier that afternoon. Not that Bran was complaining; he loved fish and chips.

"Where've you been?" Jack asked, helping himself to far more chips than Bran would have liked. To retaliate, Bran took a seat across from his friend and served himself twice as much.

"Snape," Bran answered in a growl. "Slimy git wanted to prat on about me learning to behave myself around his precious little Slytherins or he'll tattle to my dad."

Jack winced in sympathy. "Tough luck, mate. He mention anything about the rest of us?"

Bran rolled his eyes. Even though most of his tricks were carried out with a number of accomplices, his friends were only ever punished as well if a member of staff, who wasn't the Potions Master, caught them. Snape seemed to take some perverse pleasure in placing all of the blame on Bran and then blabbing to his mum or dad about it so he could be punished twice over.

"Nah, no worries about that," he said, and shoved a whole serving of fish in his mouth at once.

"If you get in trouble with dad again, you have only yourself to blame you know," said another annoying voice further down the table. Bran glared at his sister. Why couldn't he have a brother instead? There were six Weasley boys, and they were all wickedly cool, but he had lost the lottery and ended up with Mare. His life was so not fair.

To show his thanks for her opinion, Bran granted her the view of his half chewed fish in his mouth by sticking out his tongue.

"Ew, Bran, stop it!" She retaliated by throwing a roll at him, sweeping her hair over her shoulder and turning her attention back to the Head Girl.

Bran held his position for another moment, waiting to see if she turned back around so he could gross her out some more, before resuming his meal. Mare had been spending an awful lot of time with the Head Girl lately; he'd caught them in the common room on several occasions bent over several old tomes, whispering excitedly. If it was any other pair, he might have thought that they were planning something, but knowing Mare, it was probably just some archaic old text they both got off on by reading. Honestly, his sister was about as interesting as a flobberworm. Any book that was dusty and falling apart was her idea of the Holy Grail.

"So, detention then?" Jack asked, flicking some more chips on his plate, Bran narrowed his eyes at him, those were chips he could have wanted to eat, the great git.

"Detention," he answered, scooping up some more of the chips for himself, even though he hadn't even started on his own heaping pile. "And twenty points, but I'll earn them back in transfiguration."

He might not be good at potions, but transfiguration was _his_ subject. That, and he rather thought that old Minnie McGonagall had a soft spot for him. Rumor was his dad was her best pupil, having managed to become an animagus during his Hogwarts days, and she had high hopes for his only son. Sadly, it was the only subject Bran really did any well in. The rest of his grades were average at best.

"Hear about your cousin yet?" Jack said, leaning conspiratorially over the table.

Bran actually put down his fork to answer, Jack looked serious. "No, should I have?"

"Dueled Malfoy earlier," Jack said grinning widely.

"No way," Bran said, a small smile spreading across his face. He hadn't thought his cousin was that cool. Actually he was beginning to suspect that Harry was somewhere more in Mare's arena. Harry was the one who hung out with the Head Girl all the time, after all. Even if he was also friends with Ron Weasley, who wasn't too bad, even if he wasn't as good as his older twin brothers. Now _there_ was a couple of guys who knew how to have a good time.

"Yep," Jack said. "You know Henry Collins in Ravenclaw, a year under us? He saw the whole thing from the trophy room. He had detention today, from Filch. Anyways he told Carol in Hufflepuff who told Fran in…"

Bran cut him off, Jack could go on all day if need be. Sometimes he rather suspected that Jack gossiped like a girl, though he wouldn't tell his best friend that. "So what happened?"

"Dunno," Jack said shrugging. "He didn't hear what they were fighting about, but he said Harry wiped the floor with him- Malfoy ran crying back to the castle!"

At that Bran let out a loud whoop of laughter. Maybe there was hope for his cousin yet! "Cor, that's amazing, I didn't know he had it in him! Where is he?" He looked down the table to where his cousin usually took dinners with Ron's crowd a few seats away. He wasn't there; instead Ron and Neville Longbottom were taking turns flicking chips at unsuspecting Slytherins.

"Oy- Mare Bear! Seen your cousin lately?" Jack asked, interrupting whatever in-depth discussion was transpiring between his sister and the Head Girl.

Mare just shrugged and turned her back. Then, as if thinking of something else, she turned back and fixed Bran with a piercing glare. "Why?"

"Heard he beat up Malfoy today," he said, stuffing his mouth with another bit of fish, though this time he took it delicately and only had a half piece.

A look was passed between Mare and the Head Girl, who shook her head disdainfully. Bran rolled his eyes and tried to return to his dinner, he had been on the receiving end of many of the Head Girl's lectures about behavior. It was extremely unlikely that she would approve of his cousin's behavior even if he had been dueling a jerk like Malfoy.

"About Harry," the Head Girl said, and Bran quickly scrambled to remember her name in case he had to address her. He had heard it plenty of times, but he wasn't exactly in the tradition of speaking to her on a regular basis and had no real need to remember anything but to avoid her at most costs. She mostly kept to herself and unnoticed, but when she did have a reason to interfere she was bossy, loud and had a preference for long lectures about things she read in a book once. Bran harbored a suspicion that all of her life experiences were based off something she read in a book once.

The Head Girl was biting her lip almost nervously, and then she started again. "Would it be possible for you to meet your sister and I for a few minutes in the common room after dinner?"

Jack was wagging his eyebrows suggestively at Bran, so he used his spoon to flick a bit of fish at him. "Why?" he asked the girls.

"Just do it alright, Bran?" Mare snapped. Bran eyed her, she seemed a little more desperate than usual, and the look in her eyes was pleading, so he nodded reluctantly. It wasn't like they could ruin his day any more.

"So, how was your Hogsmeade date?" Jack asked, as if channeling Bran's line of thought and deciding to take it upon himself to upset his best friend more.

Bran glared at him. "Well the good news is she didn't slap me for being an hour late," which he entirely blamed Jack for, since none of his other dorm mates had woken him up in time this morning. "She only did that after yelling at me for twenty minutes, and throwing a full bottle of butterbeer- that I paid for- down my robes." He patted his chest, he still felt a bit sticky. He wasn't that great at cleaning charms.

Jack however, did not empathize with him, he laughed into his pumpkin juice, nearly choking before he put down the potentially lethal glass. "Told you Claire was high maintenance, all Ravenclaws are. You should go for a nice Gryffindor girl."

"Oh?" Bran said, raising his eyebrows. "Which girl should that be, the one with the mustache or the one with a lazy eye?"

In unison the boys glanced down the table to where the girls of their year were sitting. It was a well-known fact that the Gryffindor sixth year girls were not the best of the bunch.

"What about Lindsey Perks?" Jack said and then both boys sighed in unison. While the girls in their year weren't much to look at (and most actually avoided looking at them), the girls a year below them were to die for.

They both shook their heads to rid themselves of their daydreams and exchanged a look with one another, neither quite willing to continue with their previous thoughts in the middle of the Great Hall for the sake of decency.

"Anyways," Jack said, his voice quite higher than normal. "Finish your potions essay yet?"

Bran groaned at another reminder of why his day was so horrible. Now all he needed was a row with his mum, and a fight with a Slytherin to make the day complete.

Fortunately, his mum must have been occupied with something else and Bran didn't run into any Slytherins on his way to Gryffindor tower, so he was saved at least that small burden. Though as he eyed the Head Girl and his sister sitting by the fire and waiting for him to join them he rather thought he would prefer an exchange with his bad tempered mum instead.

"So what do you want?" He said, throwing himself on the couch and running a hand through his hair.

The girls exchanged a look. "My brother, as polite as always," Mare said to the other, giving him a nasty look which he replied to by sticking out his tongue.

The Head Girl ignored them and arranged her notes about her, flipping open a text on the table. Briefly Bran wondered why she was hanging out with someone as young as his sister, they were years apart, surely she had friends her own age?

"We have reason to believe," the Head Girl said after another moment's hesitation. "That Harry Potter is not your cousin." Bran blinked at her not sure he heard right. "He's your brother."

Both girls stared at him, waiting for a reaction. He just blinked again and waited for the Head Girl to continue, waiting for the punch line. She really wasn't very good at this whole practical joke thing.

"Bran," Mare said after another moment went by and it was clear he was not going to respond. "She's not kidding. We've been looking into it for a while now, and we're pretty positive that Harry's our brother."

This time Bran let out the beginning of a laugh that sounded forced even to him. "Real funny, Mare, but listen, if that's all, I've got an essay I've got to finish for Snape." He started to rise from his chair but was pushed down rather forcefully by the Head Girl. He looked at her with new respect; she was stronger than she looked.

"I don't think you understand," she said vehemently, eyes hardening. "Don't you want to hear what we've found out?" Mare nodded to emphasize the other girl's words.

"What you've found out?" Bran repeated. "You haven't found anything out, it's not true." He looked pointedly at his sister. "Don't you think you and I would have noticed if we had a brother? Don't you think Mum and Dad would have mentioned something?"

Mare colored at the reminder of their parents. "I think they don't want to tell us, but I don't know _why_ yet. I was actually hoping you could find that part out."

"Me?" He declared incredulously, drawing the attention of several second years who were playing chess not to far off. He glared at them, but decided to lower his voice anyways, he didn't want anyone but himself thinking his sister was crazy, and he certainly didn't want any of her strange rumors getting around the school. Harry, his brother? Honestly, Mum would flip if she heard it.

"I'm serious, Bran," Mare said, cheeks still reddening. "You're better at that whole sneaky thing than I am, and Hermione doesn't have the excuse to go up and ask them about it."

Bran glanced at the Head Girl, trying to fix her name in his mind so he wouldn't forget it. "I think the both of you are ridiculous."

This riled up the Head Girl, Hermione, Bran reminded himself. She blew up into her fringe and then dove for some of her notes. "Look here, Mare mentioned to me that your mum was muggle-born and that she insisted on having her children registered properly in the Muggle world as well as the magical."

Bran nodded, his mum had all of their birth certificates, Muggle and magical, as well as IDs, passports, and all sorts of other nonsense bits of paper he barely understood. Dad thought she was nutters, and privately Bran agreed, but Mum had insisted.

"I did a bit of digging and had my parents mail me this." She passed the piece of official parchment to Bran. It was a copy of a page from a newspaper, announcing the birth of the newborn Harry James Potter to Lily Evans-Potter and James Potter, dated for 1980. Bran blinked at it, not quite knowing what else he was supposed to do.

"Why are you bothering with this stuff anyways?" Bran shouted, suddenly angry though he didn't know why. He tossed the notice back to Hermione and crossed his arms across his chest.

Hermione and Mare exchanged another long look that made Bran want to throw something at them.

"Well, we've both been talking to Harry about several things, and I noticed that there was something- _off_ about his stories," Hermione said slowly.

"Especially the bits about where he's been all these years and why we didn't know we had a cousin and all that," Mare added. "So Hermione and I decided that we would both speak with him separately and see if his story added up," she tilted her head. "Well, for the most part it did,"

"So what's the problem?" Bran snapped.

His sister glared at him. "I said, for the most part. There were still a few noticeable slip-ups, so I decided to research the family tree to see where exactly Harry came in, and… Bran, our uncle died when he was a kid, he never could have been old enough to have children."

"I don't understand," Bran repeated, though a realization was starting to sneak in.

"Neither did we," Hermione said. "It doesn't make sense why your parents would accept him if they didn't at least know where he came from, and then he slipped up."

"How?" Bran asked.

"He called Dad, _Dad_," Mare said. "He didn't mean to, I know it, and I don't even think he realized he slipped up. We were talking one night at dinner, and I asked him what he was up to later that night and he said he was hanging out with Dad until curfew."

"And that got me thinking," Hermione said. "I had already looked into your family tree, but I hadn't looked at your immediate family, only your grandparents and uncles, really."

"So, I asked Hermione to help me out looking into our family, and that's when I mentioned how Mum had us documented in the Muggle world."

"I owled my parents and had them do a little investigating," Hermione said, "and that is what they returned with. Though as far as we can find, there isn't any documentation in the magical world about Harry at all, until we found this," by now Hermione was outright smiling.

Bran accepted the next piece of parchment she handed him. It was another birth certificate, for Harry James Potter, but a magical one. The date was the same. "How'd you get this?" He asked. "They don't release it unless you're family."

"That was me," Mare squeaked. "They won't give it out if you're just a sibling, so I forged Mum's signature and asked for it to be delivered to the house. Over the last Hogsmeade trip I nipped back and picked it up."

Bran stared at his sister with renewed respect. That was probably the most devious thing she had ever done in her whole life, he never would have expected it.

"But St. Mungo's also mailed this," she added, voice now becoming serious. She passed over another parchment. It was a death certificate, for only a year after the date the birth certificate read.

Without realizing what he was doing, Bran raised a hand to cover his mouth and rub at his chin. "So, Harry is really our brother?" He said in a strained voice. He was immediately taken aback by his own words, it sounded so much different when he spoke the thought aloud than it did in his head. "And the government thinks he died before either one of us were born?"

The girls nodded, their looks pensive, they were still waiting for some kind of response.

"How come Mum and Dad never told us?" He asked, this time addressing his sister only. They weren't exactly the closest of siblings, but he knew she was relating to him just as strongly on this point. Their parents had kept the fact that they had a _brother_ from them their entire lives.

"I don't think they knew he was still alive," Hermione said, interrupting his next thought. "Whatever happened to produce that death certificate," she motioned to the parchment Bran still held, "they believed it. I don't know where he's really been all these years, but there isn't any other mention of him existing anywhere for as far as I can tell," Mare nodded, to agree with Hermione. "I think they really are meeting him for the first time, only as their nephew, but as their son."

"Why do you think that?" Bran said, feeling himself becoming angry again. "Why don't you think they haven't just hidden him away our whole lives, lying to us?"

Mare placed her hand on his arm, calming him down. "Stop it, Bran, we know because we wrote Uncle Remus."

"Remus?" He asked, forcing himself to cool off, there was no sense yelling at his sister about something that affected her just as much.

"Actually," Mare shifted uncomfortably. "I wrote a letter and forged Dad's signature. I didn't think that Uncle Remus would respond to my questions if Mum and dad don't want us knowing anything about it."

"You did what?" Bran asked, though this time a smile accompanied his explanation. Maybe there was hope for his sister yet! "Did you have the owl return the mail to the house that time, too?"

"No," Hermione answered. "I had to come up with a bit of spell work for that. If Remus had responded and sent an owl to Professor Potter it would have gone directly to Professor Potter, we're sure. Remus would have been suspicious if we asked for the letter to be delivered to Hogsmeade. So I charmed the owl we used to bring the letter back to us."

Bran gaped at her. Now _that_ was a fancy bit of wand work. "You tampered with the owl?" He laughed loudly. "Merlin that's big time illegal! I can't believe you did that!"

Lips twitching, Hermione sent him what must have been her best impersonation of McGonagall. "I don't need a reminder of my law breaking thank you, I felt it needed to be done. So do you want to see what the return letter was, or not?"

Rather than waste his breath congratulating her, Bran accepted the letter Remus sent and scanned it quickly.

Prongs

Afraid I really can't help you there, mate. You're the only one out of our lot who ever even got around to having children, or who was even daft enough to become a teacher, so you're the one with all the experience. I think he'll come around though, at least I know he wants to. He's made the effort to connect with Sirius and I at least, and I know the only reason he even came here was to get to know you and Lily. Just give him time, he's never had parents before, I'm sure he doesn't know what to do with them now that he's got them. As far as I'm concerned it's a damned miracle you even have the opportunity to get to know Harry, and if I were you I'd take advantage of that. You know how to reach me if there's anything else to say. I'll be leaving the country for a week or two, but I'll be back in time for our next meeting. Send Lily and the children my love.

Moony

Bran stared at the letter long after he had finished with it, trying to arrange all the facts in his head. Damn, there really wasn't any denying it, Harry was his brother, and for whatever reason he wasn't as dead as his parents had thought he had been. But why then had they never mentioned him before? Not even Uncle Sirius had ever said anything, and he was the one who usually slipped up around them.

"So, now what?" He said, feeling deflated. He really didn't know what he was supposed to do about this situation. Was he supposed to march up to his parents and demand the truth? Should he seek out Harry and tell him he knew? Merlin, Harry was his brother! That brought on a whole new spin to things, didn't it, and all this time he just thought he was someone who would only be visiting for a few months before going back off where he came from. He had a _brother_.

"I don't know," Mare said helplessly. "Hermione and I have been talking about it, and we rather thought that you might know what to do."

"Me?" Bran said weakly.

The girls nodded at him.

Twenty minutes later, and Bran had somehow found himself walking up to his dad's office. At first he had point-blank refused to take any action by himself, at least not before he had a chance to think about the circumstances. Then, he found out how very _persuasive_ two very loud, very smart, very annoying girls could be. Only after Hermione had threatened that she knew about a great deal more pranks that he had pulled, but had decided not to punish him for, did he comply. Though the argument did leave him irritated, he had thought that he had been quite clever around the Head Girl, and here she had known about some of his more devious misdemeanors all along.

Harry was his brother. It seemed like such an alien idea. True, he had always wanted a brother, but when he had been thinking that, he meant that he had wanted to grow up with a brother. He had hardly been expecting to have him thrown into his life at this age. Blimey, not only did he have a brother, he had an _older_ brother. Harry was a full four years older than him.

Bran sighed and rubbed at his temples. To think, this morning he had only had plans to enjoy his date, run amuck in Hogsmeade, and spend the rest of the day hanging out with his friends. This weekend had not gone at all as planned.

He approached the door to the defense classroom with a certain amount of trepidation. What was he going to say? 'Hey Dad, sorry to bother you, but I know Harry's my brother. Why've you been lying all these years?' Somehow, he doubted that the direct approach would be particularly effective.

Swallowing a breath, he opened the door and stepped in. He was met with the sound of shouting. More specifically; his mum shouting.

"I don't know what you were thinking!" Mum was screaming. Bran winced, he recognized that tone all too well, and she was only beginning to rip into her victim.

Not wanting to interrupt and have the anger directed at him, but not willing to miss whatever was going on, Bran crept up towards the door to his dad's office.

"I assure you I was thinking about a great deal of things at the time," Harry said next, and even Bran could tell his voice was strained.

"Do you have any idea what Lucius Malfoy is capable of?" Dad shouted.

There was an eerie silence. "Yes," was Harry's low answer.

Bran decided that there this was probably going to be a great deal more interesting than he had suspected, and chose a hiding spot beneath Dad's desk so he wouldn't be spotted if the argument carried out into the classroom.

"He could have you _killed_," Mum screamed, voice rising an octave. "Do you know how hard we've had to work to keep our family off of the Death Eater's radar, ever since… ever since…" To Bran's surprise his mum's voice cracked, and he could hear the plain sounds of his dad trying to comfort her.

"It was not my intention," Harry said, sounding tired. "Well, I can't honestly say that. I mean it wasn't my intention to draw attention to the family, but I can't say that I didn't mean to draw attention to myself."

Even Bran was gaping through the pause that followed. Why on earth would someone, anyone want to draw the attention of a Death Eater?

"Do you want to die? Is that it?" Mum screeched. "Listen to that James, our son wants to get himself killed by Voldemort and his minions. If we're real lucky we'll be able to attend his funeral for a _second_ time!"

So much for any doubt about who Harry Potter was, Bran thought. His mum had confirmed everything with that outburst.

"I'm not trying to get myself killed!" Harry roared. It was the first time he had actually raised his voice. "I'm trying to help. Don't you people get it?"

"Tell me what _is_ there to get?" Dad cried, getting back into the argument. "You told off a known Death Eater, to his face, dueled his son, insulted his family, admitted you knew he was a Death Eater, and did absolutely nothing to deny any assumptions he already had about your identity!"

"I had a purpose!" Harry yelled back, and there was the sound of something scraping across the floor. "I know what I'm doing!"

"Enlighten the class, Harry," Lily hissed. "Tell us, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing then?"

"Did it ever occur to you that I want Voldemort to think I'm really who I am, that I don't want him to think I'm some illegitimate nephew of yours? I'm not drawing attention to the family, I'm focusing attention on me! Haven't you noticed that there haven't been any attacks lately? Because I've been doing my homework, I've been reading the old Daily Prophets, I know that things have been unusually quiet since I've been here! Didn't you hear Malfoy? He knew who I was before I said anything!"

"_What_?" Lily screamed. "You're an even bigger idiot that I took you for!"

"What do you think you're playing at, Harry!" James roared. "This isn't a game! This is a war. I know this isn't something you're used to, but these are our _lives_ you're messing with. If you get yourself killed…"

"You don't think I know that? You don't think I know what will happen if I'm killed?" Harry yelled back, voice cracking only slightly. "I'm not as ignorant as you lot all think I am. In fact, in this matter, I like to think I know more than you! For the last time, I know what I'm doing! I know what men like Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy are capable of more than any of you! And you are right, this is war, and the whole lot of you have been fighting like your hands are tied behind your backs and you're stuck in the dark without your wands!"

Harry paused to let out a string of curses that made Bran look up in surprise, there were a few in there he didn't know, he'd have to remember them for later. "You're right, this isn't a game. Which is why I refuse to sit back and watch it play out. I can help, I have knowledge, I have experience and if you aren't willing to listen to it then I can only thank the founders that Dumbledore is. But even if he weren't, I would fight anyway. I will always fight. I thought I could deny it, I thought I could sit back, but I… I can't." He ended, as if surprised by his own words.

"Harry," Mum said, sounding suddenly deflated. "We're trying to look out for you. You are very young, you don't know the severity of the things you're talking about."

Another long silence followed and Bran squirmed in his hiding place, readjusting his legs so they wouldn't fall asleep on him.

"No offense, _Mum_, but I've managed to look after myself for the past twenty years. I think I know how to manage by now, and if you don't trust me, then… well I tried."

Even Bran knew Harry had gone too far with that statement. A long silence followed the statement, and Bran was sure that the silent gasps were his mum's sobs. Then the door opened, and Harry came into view with both hands shoved forcefully into his pockets. The door fell shut behind him, and no one attempted to reopen it. After a pause, Harry shook his head, strode across the room and out into the hallway.

Bran held his breath in his hiding place, and silently counted to twenty. After that it wasn't likely that his parents would be in any mood to talk. Now, his mum's muffled cries and his dad's soothing tones were all he could hear through the office door. Hoping they would be occupied for a time, Bran snuck out from under the desk and all but ran from the room. Maybe if he was lucky he could catch Harry in the common room before he headed off to bed.

His heart was pounding, and he felt a headache coming on from all he had heard tonight. He wished he didn't feel like he was in way over his head, but Mare and Hermione had been right, there was definitely something dodgy about Harry.

As luck would have it, Bran need not have hurried, as he ended up running into Harry just down the hall. The older boy was leaning against a window, staring out at the grounds, and cleaning his glasses off on his shirt.

"Hey, Harry," Bran said, trying not to sound out of breath. He wasn't sure how he was going to handle this conversation, and now that he knew Harry was his brother, suddenly things felt very different.

Harry replaced his glasses and gave him a strained smile. "Hey, I was just on my way back to the tower, care to walk with me?" he said.

"Er- sure," Bran agreed, for lack of anything else to say, and set a slow pace back upstairs. "I heard about your duel with Malfoy," he said after a moment, trying not to sound as serious as he felt.

Harry turned to him sharply. "How did you hear about that?"

"Oh, it's all over school by now, a student was watching from a window," Bran said while Harry rolled his eyes. "Pretty brilliant if you ask me."

A bitter laugh escaped Harry's lips. "Uncle James and Aunt Lily didn't seem to think so."

Now that Bran knew the truth about Harry, hearing him call Mum and Dad 'aunt' and 'uncle' sounded foreign. Of course if he had come out and called them Mum and Dad it might have sounded strange too. Again he wondered why Harry was going along with the lie, when obviously he knew who he really was. Mum had referred to him as her son, and Harry hadn't denied it. Were he and Mare the only ones being deceived by this?

"They don't approve of much," Bran admitted, unsure of what else he could say. He certainly heard how his parents felt about the matter. "Even though I know the things I do aren't half as bad as what Dad used to do when he was at Hogwarts. Still, I never dueled another student before."

This got another laugh from Harry. "They're right though, I shouldn't have allowed myself to lose control like that. I know better."

Bran turned and narrowed his eyes at Harry. That definitely didn't sound like the same tune he had been singing back in his dad's office.

"Well," Harry continued, unaware of Bran's scrutiny. "I shouldn't have acted so rashly, at least, not without a little more planning. Though I still stand by my actions as good. I think I've managed to arrange things quite accordingly."

"What were you planning?" Bran asked. It was the first time he had heard of the duel being planned, and he hadn't said anything of the like back in Dad's office. Though there had been a bit of yelling about something Harry said to Malfoy senior, and Voldemort and all that. How was it all connected? Perhaps things were a bit more complicated than he had suspected.

Harry shrugged, apparently reluctant to answer. "I didn't really plan anything, that's the problem. The opportunity just sort of presented itself, and I just tried to arrange things accordingly. I mean Draco, Lucius, Dumbledore and Rita Skeeter all gathered together like that… I just acted on impulse. Really, I was just lucky to get everyone to work along with my intentions."

"Rita Skeeter the reporter?" Bran asked. "What's she got to do with anything?"

"Hopefully everything," Harry said with a knowing smile. "If she took the bait that is, which knowing her, she did, but we won't know for a few days. Even then, whatever she writes will only be intended for one person."

"Who's that?" said Bran.

Harry tapped the side of his nose with a smile. "It's a secret for now. If everything works according to plan, then no one will ever notice I had anything to do with it at all."

Bran shook his head. This line of questioning wasn't doing him any good. He really just didn't understand what all of this was about. What with Dumbledore, Death Eaters, reporters, his parents, and a long lost brother? None of it made any sense.

"Out of bed after curfew?" said a voice that Bran had hoped he was done with for today. "Twenty points from Gryffindor- each."

An excuse on his lips, Bran prepared to defend them, but Harry beat him to it.

"Take it up with Dumbledore, Snape," Harry ordered. "I am out of the tower on his orders tonight, and Bran is only accompanying me."

Hoping Harry wasn't bluffing, Bran crossed his arms over his chest and nodded.

Snape ignored him, glaring at Harry only. The pair seemed to be sizing each other up. "Doing business with Dumbledore already are we, Potter? That's interesting news. You're becoming a little too comfortable with your position if you ask me."

"It's not my position I'd be worrying about if I were you, Snape," Harry retorted.

To Bran's disgust, Snape actually smiled at Harry, somehow making the expression look foreign and grotesque. "What a clever little boy you think you are. I daresay you know nothing about my position. If you did you would know better than to wander dark corridors alone."

Even Bran saw Snape make the slight movement with his wand hand that changed his stature from passive to all too aggressive.

"Perhaps," Harry agreed. "But I can assure you that I will know more soon. For now I have decided to set my sights a bit higher than your position. I suppose Lucius Malfoy has filled you in by now."

At the mention of his status Snape's face froze in disgust. "Watch your back, Potter," Snape growled. "You won't have one for long." Then his gaze fell down to Bran and he smirked. "And I will be speaking to the Headmaster and I will bring up the arrangements for your- remedial classes."

Then without another glance Snape swept past them back towards his dungeon domain.

Harry continued on, without a word, expression unwavering. Bran resolved to wait for Harry to bring up whatever just happened, before he did.

"Bran, have you ever heard of Legilimency?" Harry said.

"Umm…" Bran wracked his brain, but he couldn't think of ever hearing about it. "No?"

"I didn't really expect you too, it's not something they teach at Hogwarts," there was a huge smile on Harry's face. "It basically means you can read someone's mind."

"Wicked," Bran said, looking up at Harry. "Can you do that?"

Harry made a face. "Never was any good at it. I learned a little though, but not nearly enough to be well practiced. The point is that Voldemort is a very accomplished Legilimens, and I think Snape running into us tonight could help me very much indeed."

Now Bran really felt confused. Mind reading? What on earth would Harry and Snape arguing do to interest Voldemort?

"So, Snape's got you in remedial potions?"

Bran blinked at his choice of questions. Out of everything that had just transpired and that's what Harry felt the need to comment on? "Yeah, I'm rubbish at Potions, but I don't think I'm that bad. Snape is just being a jerk."

"You're a sixth year right, Bran?" Harry asked.

"Yeah."

"Then I think I have a book that would help you," he said.

"Thanks," said Bran, then he waited another beat before saying, "So what was that about?"

"Death Eater banter," Harry said with a shrug. "They all think they are so clever with their so called subtle warnings. Apparently, he felt the need to remind me that he's watching me, that he knows about me, and that he wants to kill me." Surprisingly, Harry snorted. "Look, I'm sorry about all that," Harry said with a sigh. "Things are just really complicated for me right now, I'm just trying to figure things out."

"Er- right," Bran said, feeling guilty. He still wanted to ask Harry about being his brother, but now really didn't seem like a good time. Especially with everything he now had to think about.

They had just reached the portrait hole and stepped into the common room. By that time Mare and Hermione looked up as they came in, Bran shook his head to their unanswered question. He'd tell them what happened as soon as Harry went up to bed.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry said as he caught sight of the Head Girl looking in their direction, effectively solving Bran's problem. "I've got to speak with you for a moment. I have a favor to ask you. I'll talk to you later, Bran," Harry said and then hurried off to join Hermione.

Trying not to seem too interested in why Harry wanted Hermione, he joined his sister while the other girl walked away.

"What happened?" Mare hissed as soon as Bran was near enough to hear her whisper.

Trying not to leave anything out Bran sat down and told his sister everything that had happened since he left the common room. Mare listened intently only speaking up to say, "Mum'll kill you," when he mentioned remedial potions. By the time he finished they were both staring into the fire, deep in thought.

"Why don't Mum and Dad trust us?" She said finally. "They never say anything to us about the war, or Harry, or the Order, or… anything."

"I'll be of age soon," Bran said softly. "Maybe they'll tell me more then."

Mare snorted. "Dad won't let you join the Order though. Look at Fred and George Weasley. They've been out of Hogwarts for a year and a half now and they only just joined the Order.

"Yeah, but from the sound of things," Bran said. "They still talk with Harry about things more than they do us."

"Not by choice though," Mare added. "Harry's forcing them to talk to him. He's got Dumbledore on his side. "Then as if suddenly annoyed she let out a long breath. "How did he get Dumbledore on his side anyways?"

"Where has he been all these years?" Bran added.

"Do you think we should talk to him?" Mare asked, turning her uncertain face back to Bran.

"Should we?" Bran repeated.

Then Mare did something she hadn't done in years, since they were children, and leaned against Bran, her head resting on his shoulders. "I love you, Bran," she whispered.

Bran wrapped his arms around his sister and he stared absently back into the fire. "I love you, Mare."


	13. Chapter 13: Commit This to Memory

A Second Chance

By S.L

Chapter Thirteen: Commit This To Memory

If James thought that there was something more going on with Harry over the past couple days, he kept it to himself. Lily however, found it very hard to appear uncaring about the entire situation and struggled to hide her outright upset and eventual interest. Of course, with her work with Dumbledore she was unable to be around Harry as much as she would've liked, especially after their argument, but that didn't stop her from digging.

She saw him at meal times, or she did when he showed up, which was now down to only once a day. It had taken a trip down to the kitchens and a talk with the House Elves to discover that Harry had made friends with them and asked that a plate appear in his dormitory room on nights he had work to do, or he would come down to the kitchens himself.

From talks with her husband and the other teachers, she learned that he was still attending all of his classes, and though he handled all the lessons and homework with relative ease, he was losing house points for not paying attention to the lectures, or for arriving late. A talk with Madam Pince, provided the information that Harry had been spending a great deal of time in the library, staying until Madam Pince kicked him out at the end of each night. James refused to comment on whether or not Harry was speaking to him at all beyond classes, but judging from his resentful disposition it was unlikely.

Everything had started with whatever had passed at that Press Conference, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out what it was. All James would mention to her was that Harry had managed to get into a fight with the young Draco Malfoy and then he had exchanged words with Malfoy Senior. Though James seemed to want to say something on the subject to Harry, after their argument she doubted James would be in the piece of mind to speak about it. Besides, when James had asked him after a staff meeting, he had been reprimanded by Dumbledore himself and told to forget the entire situation and was told that everything was entirely under control.

Lily had questioned Dumbledore on her own later that night, trying to find out what had transpired between Harry and Dumbledore after they had made their obvious exit from the press conference, but he had been tight-lipped on the subject. At Lily's questions he had just smiled, his eyes had twinkled and he'd said that she should have patience. It was maddening. More so even since Lily was usually aware of everything that Dumbledore knew of. She had been his closest confidant since coming to work for him; he rarely ever refused to let her know something of importance, especially something concerning a member of her own family.

All that was left was to question Harry himself, but after what had transpired between them that night, she felt reluctant to do so. She felt comfortable around Harry of course, but the events of the past few days made her more aware than ever that she did not really know Harry at all. They had grown closer, had many long talks, she knew his likes and dislikes and trusted him around the children and with her family, but there was something she couldn't put her finger on. She didn't think it was a dangerous something, since Dumbledore seemed well aware of the situation and found it amusing rather than alarming, but it was something nonetheless.

It was hard not to take some of Harry's comments to heart. His words about being alone in his childhood echoed through her ears, but she knew better than to dwell on the words. She did have two other teenage children after all, and if she hadn't been through a couple 'I hate you's, and 'I wish I weren't your child', etc, she might have been more shocked. Unfortunately, part of the package was that you had to expect your children to ignore you and treat you like dirt at some point. Lord knew she had experienced her own passing phases with her own mother. It was only natural. No, it wasn't the hurtful things Harry had said that were bothering her now. It was the other things he had touched on, what he had said about You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters. She had to admit that he had made her wonder.

Years of being an accomplice of the Marauders, followed by years of working alongside Dumbledore as he explored some of the more mysterious aspects of the Wizarding world had left Lily with a burning sense of curiosity. The Evans girls had been known to simply absorb knowledge. While her sister Petunia had taken that drive and applied it to nonsense gossip and knowing this about so and so, and that about what's his name, Lily had followed in her mother's footsteps. Like her mother, Lily was an intellectual. It was that absolute desire to know everything Hogwarts had to teach her that had made her Head Girl, even though she was muggle-born. It had been that thirst that had attracted Dumbledore to hiring her as a record keeper and secretary, and accomplice in all of his endeavors. Now, Lily only wanted knowledge on her son; she wanted to know more about Harry Potter.

She tried to associate all the things she knew about him in her mind, but was finding it very difficult. They always managed to carry a decent conversation when they were together, but Lily quickly realized that they hadn't been talking about anything with much substance. She knew he had grown up with the Dursleys and that Hagrid had introduced him to the Wizarding world. She knew he was a Gryffindor and had been a seeker on his Quidditch team and eventually team captain. She knew his best friends had been Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger and that he had been close with Remus, Sirius and Dumbledore. However, she couldn't come up with much more than that.

She knew very little about what his life had been like in his world. What kind of person had he been? Why was he really so close to Dumbledore, who was always very careful to never show too much interest in any one student unless it be construed as favoritism? Were his real intentions in coming to this world to have a family, or was it really something else? What was he so busy working on now that Dumbledore seemed to know of, but he refused to tell anyone else? Why had Harry shown hostility to the Malfoy's when he had shown control before?

Maybe she had been a little too harsh with him the other night? Or had it only been an argument long in coming? She couldn't deny some of the things Harry had said. He had been without parents his whole life; did she have any right to intervene with his life now? But she was still his mother, she still cared about him, and she still didn't want to see him die twice.

There were too many questions and not enough answers, and Lily couldn't match them all up. Her head hurt from thinking about it so much, and she still had a report to finish for Dumbledore before the next Order meeting, which would be starting in less than an hour.

Lily sighed and tried to push the thoughts of Harry from her head so that she could finish getting her notes ready. First there was the Rita Skeeter to deal with. Lily had known it was a mistake to invite that particular nuisance onto Hogwarts property, but Dumbledore had not seen it to be a problem. Her latest pack of lies was that Death Eaters had recently been at Hogwarts threatening the students. She had prepared all sorts of quotes and references even daring to mention Dumbledore himself; it was absurd. Surely no one would pay it even a passing glance; in fact Lily had only glanced over it before tossing it into the rubbish bin. Though she would need to write a letter to the _Prophet_ to let them know that Rita Skeeter would not be allowed on Hogwarts Property again. She was far too slanderous to be invited back, for any future press conferences; another reporter would have to be present.

She tossed thoughts of the paper aside and then looked for the testimonials from the Muggle Prime Minister about some of the recent attacks. Things had been quiet for several months, with only small attacks, but generally that meant that Voldemort was planning something much larger. They needed to figure out what was going on before it was executed or it could mean absolute chaos. The muggles were already suspecting that something was going on; it was starting to make them edgy and nervous; they were beginning to provoke wars amongst themselves for no obvious reason. Lily believed that Voldemort must have something to do with that; a well-placed Unforgivable would be all it would take to distract the muggles with their own war. They would kill one another off without him even needing to lift a finger.

The magical world was faring no better. Hogwarts was one of the few unaffected places remaining in all of Britain, and Voldemort himself had sent enough threats to make it clear that he didn't intend for it to remain that way for long. So far all of his previous attempts to take siege of the castle had failed, but they wouldn't be able to hold onto the castle forever.

Dumbledore knocked on the door to her office; he was ready to leave for headquarters.

"Come in, Albus," she called as she stacked the whole stack of papers together, shoving them into her satchel and searching for a sharp quill to take with her.

The door opened and the old wizard came in, dressed in bright blue robes covered in moons and sparkling stars. "Ready to head out, Lily?" he asked, remaining in the doorway while Lily struggled to her feet with an armful of books that she shoved on a shelf on her way out.

"Sure thing, I just need some ink and…" she reached for a fresh bottle she had left on her desk and tucked it into her robes. "Ready," she pointed to the flowerpot on the mantle of the fireplace. "I think there's some Floo powder left in there if you want to head out first."

After Dumbledore was gone Lily took a pinch of the powder herself, threw it into the green flames and yelled "Grimmauld Place!"

She stumbled out of Sirius' kitchen fireplace a moment later into James' waiting hands. He smiled at her as he helped dust ash off her robes.

"Bumpy ride?" He whispered, giving her a comforting squeeze.

Sirius' arm wrapped around her other side, and he pulled her against him roughly. "Bumpy ride?" He copied in a cheesy tone, as if making fun of James.

Lily laughed as James released her to make a face at his best friend, and gave Sirius a playful shove. "Don't you have someone else to bother?" she asked.

"Don't worry, he's just jealous that he isn't happily married like me," James commented, nodding his head at Remus as he approached the group.

"Tried it, hated it, ended it," Sirius commented with a wave of his hand, he shot Remus a smile. "Besides Moony is such a better roommate," this time his arm shot out around Remus' shoulders who sighed and gave Lily and James an understanding look.

Tiredly he shrugged Sirius' arm off his shoulders and gave his old friend a glare. "Say what you like about our living situation, but I am not sleeping with you, nor will I ever sleep with you Sirius," he said, still shaking his head ruefully.

As if disappointed Sirius sighed, and then his eyes met James and he just gave him a smile.

"Stop it Padfoot," James said, but he was smiling. "Whatever you're going to say isn't worth it. You're really not that funny."

"Oh, but Prongs," Sirius said softly, he was holding out both of his hands to embrace James. "We used to have so much fun together, before you married- _her_!" He pointed a finger and narrowed eyes in Lily's direction, who burst out laughing.

"Merlin you lot are an even bigger bunch of losers than when we were kids," she said and broke through the small circle in search of Dumbledore.

The kitchen was already crowded with several other Order members, and Molly Weasley was at the stove, cooking up something in a big black pot.

"Wotcher, Lily," Tonks said, entering the room from the hall; her hair was as bright lemon-yellow today.

"Hey, Tonks," Lily said, and jerked her thumb in the direction of the fireplace where Sirius had thrown himself dramatically against the mantle while Remus and James chuckled at something or other. "That cousin of yours is causing havoc again."

Tonks looked past Lily and grinned. "That is what he does best."

"So how's Auror life treating you these days?" Lily asked.

The younger woman shrugged and sat down heavily at the kitchen table next to an empty seat. Kingsley Shaklebolt was sitting on her other side, and waved politely to acknowledge them both.

"Well, it would be good if that 'cousin of mine' wasn't my superior officer and if this oaf," she jabbed Shaklebolt with her elbow good-naturedly, "didn't enjoy making my life so bleeding difficult."

He chuckled, his voice very deep. "It's all part of the program girl— _constant vigilance_!" He joked and they all looked over to the far corner where Mad Eye Moody was leaning against the wall, not speaking with anyone, his eye roving around the room madly. His laugh faded into a sigh and he looked up at Lily, his expression grave. "Any word on what this meeting is about? I didn't think we had anything scheduled until March."

Jokes now aside, Lily let her satchel drop down and took the seat a few down from Shaklebolt so that she would be seated near the head of the table, right next to Dumbledore. "To be honest I'm not to sure," she admitted. "We have a few things that could use going over, but really, nothing that is very out of the ordinary." She peered over where Dumbledore was conversing with Minerva and the Weasley's eldest child, Bill. "I don't know what he has in mind."

The chair beside her rattled as Sirius kicked it aside so he could take a seat. "What's the discussion in this corner, kids?" he asked, as he shot Tonks and Shaklebolt a wide smile.

Jokingly Remus cuffed him on the back of his head and took the seat between him and Tonks.

"Ow, Moony," Sirius cried rubbing his head. "You could have messed up my hair."

"What's wrong with that?" James said, taking a seat opposite them all and leaning his arms across the backs of the empty chairs on either side of him.

"Says the man with the bird's nest on his head…" Tonks said very slowly so they caught each word. James shot her a look and patted the top of his head self-consciously while the rest of the table burst out in laughter.

Lily took pity on her husband as he tried to rake his fingers through his unruly locks to settle them. "Don't listen to them darling; I think your hair is very dashing."

"She would," Remus muttered, leaning in as if sharing the secret with Tonks who giggled and ran a hand through her own hair.

As her hand ran through her short yellow locks, they turned a dark black and were left sticking out at all kinds of odd ends. "So do I look more like a Potter now?" She shook out her new head of hair

At the sight Lily just groaned. "Oh, don't Tonks, you're making me feel old."

"Well," the younger woman said with a smirk, as she held up a goblet to examine her new head of hair in the reflection. "You aren't _quite_ old enough to be my mother Lily. Then again who knows? If you two had gotten started a little earlier…"

Sirius burst out laughing and slapped his hands on the table. "Yeah, just look what you missed out on," he turned to Tonks. "You do realize that you just took the boy's hair style; Mare's hair is nothing like that; that's more like Bran's."

Looking slightly put off Tonks stuck her tongue out at him, but her hair slowly straightened itself out and resumed its earlier lemony color. "Don't listen to him Tonks," Remus said smiling at her. "I thought you looked very lovely."

"Thank you, _Remus_," Tonks said, though she was leaning forward over the table addressing Sirius.

"Are you lot quite finished yet," Shaklebolt commented, running a hand over his own hairless head. "You all are making _me_ feel old."

"Now, why on earth would you think that?" Bill Weasley said as he took a seat next to James. "Afternoon James; how's my brother doing?"

James smiled at his former pupil. "As good as ever, and Molly?" he called over his shoulder to Molly Weasley who was approaching with the huge pot hovering in the air in front of her.

"Yes, dear," she said, flicking her wand so the pot landed in the center of the table.

"You'd be glad to hear that he is third in his year as far as defense is concerned," James commented.

Molly smiled widely as she cleaned her hands off on her apron. "Oh that's fantastic. Is that Head Girl still ahead of him then? Sirius, hands off," she snapped, and Sirius pulled his hand back from opening the lid off the steaming pot.

"I can't help it Molly; I'm hungry. What have you made for us tonight?" Sirius whined.

"Stew, it should be enough for the whole lot of us," her eyes raked over the room where a few others were still grouped around the counters away from the table. "Who else are we expecting? Was Aberforth going to be joining us tonight, dear?" Molly asked Lily.

Collecting her notes of who she had sent instructions to meet that night, Lily ran her finger down the list. "Nope, not tonight. I think we're just waiting on your sons Molly."

She smiled weakly at her. "I'm afraid they couldn't make it tonight, Percy had Ministry business and the twins had a meeting." She shook her head sadly and took the seat that her son offered next to him.

"Don't worry Mum," he told her. "They are going to be just fine," he exchanged a look with Shaklebolt, but did not comment further. The rest of the table fell silent.

"What about the Longbottoms?" Sirius asked, trying to peer into the pot again without catching Molly's attention.

James answered the question for her with a shake of his head. "Still in Australia on business while the children are in school. They won't be back for another month at least."

"Ah," Dumbledore said, approaching with McGonagall on his heels. "I see we're almost all here."

Lily ran her eyes over her list again. "Actually sir," she said still counting off names and matching them to the faces that were making their way to the large table. "I think we're all here, that is if the rest of the Weasleys aren't joining us tonight."

Rather than answer Dumbledore swept his robes behind him and made to sit at the head of the table. "Actually, we are waiting on one more, perhaps we should have a bite of that fantastic— is that stew I smell, Molly?"

Perking up a bit at the mention of her dinner Molly stood back up. "Yes, it is Headmaster I have some rolls too. Bill, why don't you get the dishes?"

Sirius jumped out of his seat, quickly followed by Remus and Tonks. "Let me help, Molly," he said.

"Yeah," Tonks added shooting Remus a smile. "Same goes for us I think."

In no time at all everyone who could was sitting at the table enjoying some of Molly's homemade stew, and those who weren't able to fit at the table were leaning against the counters that surrounded them.

"Who are we waiting on, Albus?" Molly asked when she had finally had a seat. She had refused to sit down herself until she had personally served everyone dinner and made sure they all had something to drink.

"Harry Potter," he said. Lily choked on a carrot.

"I'm sorry?" James asked, his expression was tight, his lips barely moved.

With his usual lack of tact, Sirius glanced up from a tough bit of meat he had been trying to bite through and looked at his friend. "You didn't tell me Harry was coming."

"Actually I didn't tell James or Lily, Sirius," Dumbledore said as he took a long sip from his goblet. "I apologize, but I wasn't sure he was going to make an appearance; he only agreed to come a short bit before the scheduled time. As it was he had to go and pick something up, at my request of course, before joining us."

"I thought your son's name was Bran," Bill commented.

Dumbledore held up his hands to the room to end any further comments. "Enough, Harry will answer everything when he gets here. James, Lily, I wouldn't be upset if I were you, Harry has a lot on his mind right now."

Suddenly Lily didn't feel much like eating and based on the look that crossed James face as he set down his spoon, he had also lost his appetite.

Down the table she could hear Tonks whispering to Remus. "Who's Harry?" Though she was quickly silenced by a look from one of the others at that end of the table.

Dumbledore seemed not to notice the sudden tension in the room and finished the rest of his meal as he hummed a tuneless song to himself. The feeling in the room was rather strained, but a few people tried to strike up mild conversations to end the silence. Finally Moody cleared his throat, and grateful for the disturbance, everyone turned to look at him.

"Someone's at the front door," he announced, his magical eye was focused through the back of his head, staring out the opposite wall.

"I'll get it," Sirius said, almost reluctantly, but he didn't bother to get up.

"No, I'll get it," James said, and Lily watched as he strode out of the room. She glared at Sirius who caught her gaze and shrugged. Sometimes it was unfair how well he knew her husband.

Remarkably the two Potters managed to make it back to the kitchen without a row, though when James returned to his seat, the corners of his eyes looked more strained than usual. Harry was showing no signs of stress at all.

He walked into the room carrying a large box tied with string. "Evening everyone," he said as he was met with stares. Receiving no real response other than a grin from Sirius and a wave from Remus, he headed towards the only other person he was familiar with, aside from his parents. Arriving in front of Dumbledore he set the parcel down, put his hands in his pockets, and even had the decency to look a little embarrassed.

Dumbledore didn't notice, instead he pulled the string off the parcel and unfolded the top of the box. Curious to see what Dumbledore had asked her son to pick up, Lily was surprised when all the box seemed to contain was a pensieve. However it seemed to please Dumbledore to no end, who smiled.

"Well, it looks like we will be able to begin then," he stood up beside Harry. "Lily, if you would be so kind as to start your record keeping now."

Remembering her duties, Lily pulled out her Quick Quotes Quill and a normal quill as well as a roll of parchment. When she had everything arranged in front of her, she nodded for Dumbledore to continue.

"Now, first I would like to introduce you to Harry Potter here," Harry ducked his head. His cheeks were a little rosy, Lily noticed. Feeling sorry for him, even though she was a little angry at not being told about this arrangement, she gave him an encouraging smile. "Harry here has agreed to allow me to tell you all the truth about who he is and how he came to be with us today."

Lily raised her quill in the air and waved it at Harry. "I'm sorry, when exactly did you decide to do this, Harry?"

At least Harry managed to look genuinely remorseful when he glanced first at Lily, and then James. "I'm sorry, I've only just decided actually; Dumbledore felt that it would be the best idea to have everything out in the open."

James snorted and looked away, and started staring off in the other direction instead. Harry obviously noticed as his eyes narrowed slightly in confusion, then he blinked and turned his gaze on his audience.

"Let us get down to business then, please," Dumbledore said. "Harry here arrived at Hogwarts, what has it been, a little over two months ago, now?" Harry nodded. "He is from another world, another reality of this world if you will."

The whispers started up immediately; the only few who remained calm and silent were James, Lily, Remus and Sirius; the only ones who had known about this earlier. It always struck Lily how remarkably straightforward Dumbledore could be when he wanted to.

"Impossible!" Moody was the first to cry out. "There is no magic that—"

"Now, Alastor," Dumbledore said, his voice rose so that it was easily heard over the background noise of the room. "It is entirely possible, and in fact has happened, as Harry here is proof of."

At the other end of the table Bill raised his hand as if still in school, but spoke before anyone acknowledged him. "I'm sorry Headmaster, but _how_ exactly is it possible?"

"_Bill_," Molly scolded the moment the words were out of his mouth. "I'm sure that Albus is going to explain."

"Yes," McGonagall said, lips pursed, her eyes were resting their penetrating gaze on Harry, and one eyebrow was upraised above the rim of her spectacles. "Please, elaborate for us, Albus."

"I have explained the details to Mr. and Mrs. Potter already, to do so now will take up too much time for tonight. Those of you still interested in knowing the science behind the spell may address me after tonight's meeting, and I will be happy to discuss this with you. For now," he continued, his eyes hardening. "I hope that you will trust me enough to take this as fact and allow us to continue. Harry here has taken the time out of his busy schedule to be with us tonight, and we mustn't waste the opportunity to speak with him while we have it.

"Now," he continued. "As I said Harry has come to us from another world as it would seem, and recently we have been discussing some of the differences between the situation with Voldemort in his world and ours. As it is, Harry believes he can help us Harry," Dumbledore motioned for Harry to take the floor.

All eyes immediately turned to Harry as he stepped up to address the crowd. Though Lily had expected him to shrink away from the harsh looks, and now doubtful and suspicious eyes, Harry actually looked at ease and quite confident. "Since coming to share this world with you all, I have spent many hours examining the differences between this world and the one that I recently inhabited. The war situation here is very different from the one I knew back home, a great deal more advanced I am afraid," he said sadly. "Though things had been very dark in my world, our side was much stronger, the Ministry was less infected with Dark Wizards, Voldemort was a great deal weaker, and the Order had something that you all are lacking." His eyes swept over the room as if daring anyone to take a guess at what they were missing. "A spy."

"You aren't suggesting that you become a spy?" Sirius said, jumping to his feet, James as well had leaned against the table and looked ready to rise.

"There isn't any way I am going to let you do something so stupid," James commented. Some of the other occupants of the room had started whispering again.

Harry blinked, "Er— no actually, I wasn't suggesting anything of the sort." Sirius slowly sank back into his chair, James did not relax his position.

"What are you suggesting boy?" Moody yelled. Then he took a swig from his flask, while his magical eye spun around madly now, almost too fast to track.

"Well," Harry said, faltering slightly, now he had been knocked off track. "I was just going to say that in my world we had a spy. A man who was formally a Death Eater, but later joined the Order at Dumbledore's urging. He was a member of Voldemort's own inner circle and was able to provide the Order with a great deal of information as well as plant false information in Voldemort's ranks. He knew attack dates and locations, as well as the names and locations of other Death Eaters; locations of Voldemort's hide-outs, basically everything. Without him we would have been at a loss."

"So what is your point?" Shakelbolt said from the other end of the table. "You think we haven't been trying to get a spy into Voldemort's circle for years? We've lost two good men trying to do just that; they were found out before they could even get branded. It's impossible to get someone that close to Voldemort without him knowing."

"Ah," Harry said happily. "That is because Voldemort is well practiced in Legilimency; he can detect a fraud in an instant."

"And how did your spy not achieve the same fate then?" Bill asked.

"He too was a master at both Legilimency and Occlumency," Harry admitted. "I will grant you that it was a great undertaking of personal risk, but he did manage to escape detection for a number of years."

"So, do you think we can persuade this person to do the same here?" Remus asked, he was leaning forward intently as he ran the ideas through his head.

Lily too was trying to think of who this could be. The only person she knew who was accomplished in either Legilimency and Occlumency was Dumbledore himself, and that was obviously not a possibility.

"No way in hell," said Harry. He grinned at them for a moment before he must have realized that he was staring out at a sea of hostile faces. "Actually," he continued, with a slight tinge of hesitation. "In order for this to work I will have to pull him from my world and replace his counterpart here with him." He shook his head and rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin. "It will be a tricky bit of spell work, and I'll have to make up a great deal of it to get it all to work, but I've been going over it for some time now, and I think I've come up with the spell that will work."

Lily's head jerked up. So that was what Harry had been up to. He was trying to manipulate the spell that he had used to come here to bring someone else over.

"So, who," Sirius asked, at least he had relaxed a little more now he was sure Harry wasn't suggesting to do such a thing himself.

This time Harry viably winced. "Severus Snape."

It was quite possibly the worse thing that could have come out of Harry's mouth at that moment. Lily had to bite her lip to keep from crying out her disagreement, both James and Sirius were outright screaming at Dumbledore and Harry and the rest of the table wasn't far off from doing so either. Only Molly remained in her seat giving Dumbledore a tight-lipped look as she shook her head in disappointment. Even Minerva had moved across the room and was under Dumbledore's nose wagging her finger. Harry himself was backing away from a murderous looking Moody who was telling him exactly what he though of Snape. Lily closed her eyes and quickly counted to ten in her head; there was no sense in her getting out of hand, with everyone else doing such a splendid job.

By the time she had opened her eyes again, it looked as if Dumbledore had had enough. He raised his arm hand in the air and shot sparks from his wand as he yelled for everyone to take their seats. Still softly voicing their opinions, but willing to listen to anything Dumbledore told them, the room slowly settled down and Harry drew up next to Dumbledore again. Lily looked across the table to see if James would meet her eyes. She wondered if he recalled Dumbledore mentioning that Harry had asked after Snape when he had first woken up from his journey.

"I understand your reluctance. I myself harbored the same misgivings," Dumbledore told the room.

"You told me yourself that the only reason you let him remain at Hogwarts was so that you would have a way to keep your eye on him," McGonagall said. She was the only woman alive who could possibly make it sound like she was scolding the man over twice her own age.

"It is true, Minerva," Dumbledore admitted with a nod of his head. "However, as I said Harry has spent some time in my company recently and made things as clear as possible. In fact, since we both expected the reaction you would have tonight, Harry has generously agreed to allow the room to witness some of his own memories from his own world in order to persuade you."

Lily swallowed hard and her gaze darted to the pensieve, so that was what that was about. Harry was gong to show them his own world, the one he spoke so little about.

"You must remember that what Harry has agreed to show us is extremely personal, and the counterparts of some of you will be in some of the scenes we will relive tonight, correct Harry?"

Harry nodded, but avoided any one-person's gaze. Lily's eyes flickered over to where Molly and Bill sat and she swiftly recalled that Harry had said that the Weasleys had been like family. Here, they didn't even know who he was, they didn't trust him, and both were glaring at him as if he were a Death Eater himself.

"I have seen some of these images myself," Dumbledore told them. "And though you will not be privy to everything Harry has shown me, I believe he is being more than generous. I doubt that many of you would agree to have your own memories broadcasted through the meeting. I hope that you will all remain entirely silent as we view what Harry has prepared for us, and be entirely respectful of him. Harry," Dumbledore motioned to the pensieve, "if you're ready," he said gently.

Harry nodded, almost looking uncertain now, but he pulled a small bottle from inside his robes that contained swirling silver memories and strode toward the pensieve. The room was dead silent now; everyone was waiting for the start of the first memory. Lily held her breath; she was anxious to see what Harry's world had been like and this might be the only opportunity she would ever have to see it.

After uncorking the bottle Harry made as if to pour the contents into the pensieve and hesitated. He pulled his arm back and looked around the room once more. "I should explain first that in my world Voldemort disappeared for a good number of years and was believed dead by the majority of the Wizarding world. You'll notice other things that are dramatically different, but if you could hold back on commenting, I'll be able to explain after we are finished here."

The thought of Voldemort being thought as dead set off a new low murmer that quickly ended the moment the memories slid from the bottle and into the pensieve. They all watched and they waited.

Nodding to Harry, who took a step back, Dumbledore pulled out his wand and aimed it at the pensieve, ready to broadcast the memories and project everyone into them. It would be a stretch with this many people, but the memories would adjust themselves so there was room for them.

Lily closed her eyes and held her breath until the shaking feeling was over, when she opened them again she found herself in the Hospital Wing. Quickly trying to take everything in she looked over to find the picture frozen around them. Harry, looking several years younger, was laying in one of the hospital beds, his arm and shoulder heavily bandaged. Beside his bed stood Poppy, Molly, Bill, Ron and Hermione, Sirius in his dog form sat next to them. At the foot of the bed stood Snape, McGonagall, and to her surprise Cornelius Fudge. On the other side of Harry's bed stood Dumbledore, looking very formidable. Suddenly the scene snapped into play.

"Now, see here, Dumbledore," Fudge was saying, waving a finger in the air. "I've given you free rein, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who'd have let you hire werewolves," at that Lily looked over to see Remus cringe. "Or keep Hagrid," Fudge continued. "Or decide what to teach your students without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me—"

"The only one," Dumbledore began in a hard voice. "Against whom I intend to work against is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side."

Fudge seemed to be in denial about this, he shook his head and fingered the hat in his hands. "He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be…"

For a moment Lily almost felt sorry for him.

Then Snape approached in a cloud of black robes and waved a bare arm in front of Fudge. Even though she knew he was a Death Eater, Lily gasped aloud at the sight of the angry looking mark on his forearm. "There," Snape said. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

As Snape spoke, Fudge backed away, shaking his head to deny what he was seeing. Repulsed at the sight of the mark, as Lily herself felt, Fudge turned on Dumbledore again. "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."

He turned, paused, and then strode forward to Harry, pulling a sack from his robes which he dropped on the bedside table next to Harry. "Your winnings," he said with little enthusiasm. "One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances…"

Lily glanced at the older Harry, standing away from the main group, next to Dumbledore. He was watching the scene as if not really seeing it, barely responding to what was being said around him. Lily made herself a mental reminder to ask what the 'winnings' had been for. One thousand Galleons was a lot of money after all.

Once Fudge had left, Dumbledore turned to the rest of the room's occupants. "There is work to be done," he said. "Molly," Both the memory of Molly and the real one jerked at the sound of her name. "Am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?"

"Of course you can," Molly answered promptly, though she looked quite pale. "We know what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper Wizarding pride."

Sadly Lily spared another glance at Molly. The real Molly looked proud and was gripping her son's arm happily. The Weasleys were as dependable in this world as they were in the one that Lily knew them in; it was a nice thought.

"Then I need to send a message to Arthur," Dumbledore was saying. "All those that we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and he is well placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not as shortsighted as Cornelius."

"I'll go to Dad," Bill spoke up as he rose from his chair. "I'll go now."

"Excellent," Dumbledore said. "Tell him what has happened. Tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly. He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry—"

"Leave it to me," said Bill.

After making his quick goodbyes and collecting his cloak Bill was gone and Dumbledore turned to address McGonagall. "Minerva," said Dumbledore. "I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also— if she will consent to come— Madame Maxime."

Like Bill, McGonagall's exit was swift and this time Dumbledore turned to Poppy Pomfrey. "Poppy," Dumbledore said. "Would you be very kind and go down to Professor Moody's office," somewhere off to her right Lily saw Moody bristle in amusement and look around to see if anyone had taken notice of his unusual title. "Where I think you will find a house-elf called Winky in considerable distress?" Dumbledore went on. "Do what you can for her, and take her back to the kitchens. I think Dobby will look after her for us."

"Very— very well," Poppy said and then she too left.

This time Dumbledore followed Poppy to the door and made sure that it was firmly shut behind her. Harry, Molly, Ron, Hermione, Sirius, and Snape remained with him.

"And now," Dumbledore said gravely. "It is time for two of our numbers to recognize each other for what they are. Sirius… if you could resume your usual form."

Lily spared the real Sirius a quick confused glance, though she supposed it was silly to expect him to know what was going on, she quickly turned back to the scene at hand.

Already Sirius was assuming his human form. He looked horrible, not at all like the Sirius that Lily knew. This one looked dirty, much older and much more feral. To everyone's utmost surprise Molly screamed and backed herself away from the bed. "Sirius Black!" She cried out.

"Mum, shut up!" Ron yelled back at her, looking embarrassed. "It's okay!"

Lily turned to look at the memories of Snape and Sirius as they examined one another. The mirroring looks of absolute hatred were very familiar to her; they had squared off like this many times before, though there was a certain intensity in Snape's gaze that was out of place.

"Him!" Snape growled. "What is he doing here?"

"He is here at my invitation," Dumbledore said. He was standing between them, trying to gauge the situation. "As are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other," there was a short pause. "I will settle, in short term for a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth do not stand united, there is no hope for any of us."

Knowing Sirius as well as she did Lily could see the huge amount of effort it took him to reach across and touch Snape's hand before letting it drop.

"That will do to be going on," Dumbledore said. "Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher- the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin's for a while; I will contact you there."

"But—" Harry protested from the bed, making the first sound since they had arrived in the memory.

Sirius turned to Harry and rested a hand on his bed; he looked very remorseful and it was more obvious in that moment than in anything Harry had ever told her that both Sirius and Harry had been very close in his world and had loved one another very much.

"You'll see me very soon, Harry," Sirius said gently. "I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don't you?"

"Yeah," Harry said, swallowing and collecting his courage. "Yeah… of course I do." Though he didn't look like he wanted to.

Rather than leave the room as a man, Sirius transformed before making his exit. Then Dumbledore addressed Snape.

"Severus," Dumbledore said as calmly as possible. "You know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready… if you are prepared…"

Even Lily could tell that it took an effort for Snape to nod and say, "I am." He even looked, if it was possible, scared.

"Then good luck," Dumbledore said, then as Snape made to leave the memory swirled away again.

For a moment there was blackness and then like before, a picture sank into the space around them.

This time the group found themselves crammed into Dumbledore's office. The scene in front of them was already active this time. Dumbledore was behind his desk facing Harry who was standing a few paces away, looking angrier than Lily had ever seen him. He was bloodied, cut, his clothes were torn, his face was tear-stained and both arms were shaking. His hands were in fists at his sides.

"What about Snape?" Harry snapped, at Dumbledore no less. Lily spared a shocked glance in Harry's direction. She had never heard someone take such a tone with the Headmaster. "You're not talking about him, are you? When I told him Voldemort had Sirius he just sneered at me as usual—"

Lily's heart sunk, this must have been just after Sirius had died then. After Harry had told him about that bit of information he had Floo called James who had discussed the information with her. It certainly explained Harry's initial reaction to Sirius. Suddenly Lily understood why Harry was looking so angry and upset, and her heart went out to him.

"Harry," Dumbledore said patiently. "You know that Professor Snape had no choice but to pretend not to take you seriously in front of Dolores Umbridge, but as I have explained, he informed the order as soon as possible about what you had said. It was he who deduced where you had gone when you did not return from the forest. It was he too who gave Professor Umbridge fake Veritaserum when she was attempting to force you to tell of Sirius' whereabouts…"

It looked as if Harry was ignoring him,;he was staring furiously at the floor now. "Snape— Snape g—goaded Sirius about staying in the house— he made out Sirius was a coward—"

Lily glanced in Sirius' direction to see his eyes narrowed dangerously as if the insult had come from Snape's mouth itself, rather than retold by Harry in a memory.

"Sirius was much too old and clever to have allowed such feeble taunts to hurt him," Dumbledore responded gently.

"Snape stopped giving me Occlumency lessons!" Harry snapped next. "He threw me out of his office!"

Lily felt James' hand reach for her own and she traded a look with him. Snape had been teaching Harry Occlumency? Why would their son need to learn that? She looked over at the real Harry. Had he learned Occlumency after being thrown out of Snape's office; did he know now?

"I am aware of it," Dumbledore sighed. "I have already said that it was a mistake for me not to teach you myself," Lily gasped. Dumbledore _never_ taught private lessons, especially something as advanced as Occlumency, to a student. "Though I was sure, at the time, that nothing could have been more dangerous than to open your mind even further to Voldemort while in my presence—" Again Lily felt speechless. Harry had to learn Occlumency because his mind was open to Voldemort?

"Snape made it worse; my scar always hurt worse after lessons with him—" Strangely the memory of Harry fingered the long lightning bolt scar on his forehead. Lily and James had asked him about it one night at dinner over the holiday, but he had laughed it off and said it was just a stupid accident. "How do you know he wasn't trying to soften me up for Voldemort, make it easier for him to get inside my—"

Dumbledore was quick to respond in a firm, no nonsense voice. "I trust Severus Snape," he said simply. "But I forgot— another old man's mistake— that some wounds run too deep for the healing. I thought Professor Snape could overcome his feelings about your father," Lily glanced at James who was still watching the scene with interest. "I was wrong."

It looked as if Harry was yelling something else, but the sound had cut out and the picture was slowly fading away.

Next they were in a room that Lily didn't recognize, but at the abundance of Weasleys and the real Molly's loud "Oh!" Lily assumed they were in the Weasley's sitting room. It was very cozy, music was playing in the background, Remus was standing by the fire, Arthur, and Molly were sitting on the couch to one side while Bill and a blond haired woman were cuddled up on the opposite couch, much to Lily's amusement (and Bill and Molly's she was sure). On the floor sat the twins, Ron, and to her surprise Ginny Weasley, looking nothing at all like the haughty Slytherin she knew. Harry was sitting off to one side speaking with Remus, who looked a little worse for the wear, but otherwise normal. Judging by the tree in the corner and the snow on the windowsill, it was Christmas.

"It isn't out business to know," Remus was saying when the sound came into tune. "It's Dumbledore's business. Dumbledore trusts Severus, and that ought to be good enough for all of us."

"But," Harry was protesting, leaning on the edge of his seat eagerly. "Just say— just say Dumbledore's wrong about Snape—"

"People have said it, many times. It comes down to whether or not you trust Dumbledore's judgment. I do; therefore, I trust Severus."

"But Dumbledore can make mistakes," argued Harry. "He says it himself. And you— do you honestly like Snape?"

"I neither like nor dislike Severus," Remus responded. Beside her James snorted as if he found this highly amusing. Lily did too. Remus frequently expressed exactly how he felt about Snape, and it was certainly in the realm of dislike. However this Remus, looked sincere about what he said. "We shall never be bosom friends, perhaps; after all that happened between James and Sirius and Severus, there is too much bitterness there. But I do not forget that during the year I taught at Hogwarts, Severus made the Wolfsbane Potion for me every month, made it perfectly, so that I did not have to suffer as I usually do at the full moon."

Lily was a certified Potions Mistress and would have been the best in her class if not for Snape, but she couldn't for the life of her think of what the Wolfsbane Potion was. She would have to ask Harry later.

"But he 'accidentally' let it slip that you're a werewolf, so you had to leave!" Harry cried out.

Remus did not look the least bit concerned, however, instead he shrugged. "The news would have leaked out anyway. We both know he wanted my job, but he could have wreaked much worse damage on me by tampering with the potion. He kept me healthy. I must be grateful."

"Maybe he didn't dare mess with the potion with Dumbledore watching him!" Harry pointed out.

Smiling, almost as if disappointed Remus nodded. "You are determined to hate him, Harry. And I understand; with James as your father, with Sirius as your godfather, you have inherited an old prejudice. By all means tell Dumbledore what you have told Arthur and me, but do not expect him to share your view of the matter; do not even expect him to be surprised by what you tell him. It might have been on Dumbledore's orders that Severus questioned Draco."

The room around them faded away once again they were in Dumbledore's office. Again, it was night and Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, Harry standing angrily a few feet away. At first Lily thought it was the same scenario all over again, but then she noticed that Harry was in school robes and looking perfectly normal, if still a little younger than she knew him. Also, as she turned to look at Dumbledore she found herself recoiling away in horror as she caught sight of the blackened remains of his hand. There were a few mutterings behind her, which Lily passed off for the rest of the group making the same discovery. She glanced at Dumbledore, but since he did not seem surprised she assumed he had seen the memory already.

Harry was laughing madly. "He hated my dad like he hated Sirius! Haven't you noticed, Professor, how the people Snape hates tend to end up dead!"

In response Dumbledore sighed heavily, "You have no idea of the remorse Professor Snape felt when he realized how Lord Voldemort had interpreted the prophecy, Harry. I believe it to be the greatest regret of his life and the reason that he returned—"

"But _he's_ a very good Occlumens, isn't he sir?" Harry pointed out and Lily noticed that he was starting to shake. "And isn't Voldemort convinced that Snape's on his side, even now? Professor… how can you be _sure_ Snape's on our side?"

A moment passed while Dumbledore appeared to be thinking about something then finally he nodded, decided. "I am sure. I trust Severus Snape completely."

It was the shortest memory so far and it quickly faded away as yet another picture solidified around them. Again they were in an unfamiliar place, a cottage by the looks of, but Lily didn't know where. It was very bare, there were few belongings, however Snape was sitting at a table in front of a rather worn chessboard, and Harry was sitting across from him. This Harry looked a great deal like the one Lily knew, he was older, his hair was a little longer, a little messier, and his robes were of a better quality than a students, though they looked worn and dirty. Snape didn't look at all like the sleek Potions Master she knew either. His hair was in disarray, his goatee had grown out and long stubble covered his face in an almost shaggy beard, and his robes were in even worse order than Harry's. A long plain wooden cane rested against his knee, his other leg was stretched out under the table. It did not look like the pair had fallen on good times at all.

"I didn't at all you know," Harry said as he moved a pawn and clicked it against the board. Lily took a closer look and realized it was a muggle set, not the moving, talking pieces usually used by wizards. "Believe you, I mean."

Snape did not respond, he merely arched on eyebrow and made his move.

"I'm sorry," Harry persisted. "But why didn't you tell any of us, I think that even Sirius would have believed you were on our side, than to—"

"To what, Potter?" Snape sneered, adapting a more familiar expression than the absent one he had been using. "To do what I did?"

Harry stared back calmly, looked down at the board and moved his knight. When Snape had settled back, and relaxed Harry responded. "Yes, you know that's what I meant. I always wondered why Dumbledore trusted you so faultlessly right up until—" Suddenly he bit his lip and closed his eyes before continuing, Snape looked away.

"Yes, he knew," said Snape. "Of course he knew. How do you think he knew to send Hagrid to pick you up?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "I never really thought about it, I just assumed… well never mind what I assumed, it's irrelevant now." There was an awkward pause and then something new occurred to Harry. "Why did you risk it? I mean, you obviously hated my parents," Lily winced, that much was very true here, too. "And you had shown no guilt at killing before. Why would you risk your life to save them?"

There was a tight squeeze applied to Lily's waist and she remembered that James had his arm around her and looked up into his eyes. Snape had risked his life to try to save them?

Snape seemed just as surprised by the announcement and shook his head in apparent amazement. "I didn't mean to save them, I—" he hesitated, gave Harry a long look, and sighed. "I don't hurt children, Potter, no matter what any of my former students say, including you."

Lips parting in wonder, Harry tilted his head back. "You mean you tried to stop Voldemort, for _me_? You _hate_ me."

Rolling his eyes, Snape nodded. "Well, maybe not quite hate, but I certainly have never liked you, and at the time you were a baby, I could hardly hold that against you."

But Harry was thinking about something else now. "And Neville, that's why he wasn't hurt in the attack. You hid him, didn't you? He told me that his Gran was the one to find him, in the shed out back, away from the main house. He thought his Mum had gotten him hidden away, but he didn't understand how since she was found in the nursery."

Lily blinked. There had been an attack on the Longbottoms? Assuming Harry was talking about Neville Longbottom of course, but she didn't know any other Neville.

Again, Snape nodded. "I was the first to arrive I hid him away as I did any other children I ever encountered on our attacks," he swallowed and shook his head; he was staring intently at the chessboard. "I had my fill the moment he started targeting _babies_. He didn't even want to kill your parents or torture the Longbottoms. He wanted you and Longbottom-- _babies_. It was disgusting."

"But why," Harry went on, "did Voldemort let you back after what you did?"

"He never knew about Longbottom, or any of the others, and with you," Snape shrugged, "he didn't think that I was trying to keep you alive,; he merely thought I was trying to kill you first. He wrote it off at me being power hungry."

"But," Harry hesitated. "I don't remember you being in the house when they died… it's not the way I hear it when the Dementors are around. I only heard him."

Snape shrugged. "I wasn't supposed to be there. I was supposed to be guarding outside. But then I couldn't get around the wards as quickly as he could," he picked up a pawn and held it upraised above the board. "I didn't get there in time to—" the piece hovered about its destined spot, and then he set it down gently. "I didn't even get there in time to do anything about you; he had already said the words."

"And Dumbledore knew all along," Harry told his queen as he rolled it between two fingers. He set it down a few spaces away, taking one of Snape's rooks. "That still doesn't explain why you never told anyone."

At this Snape snorted and settled back into his usual sarcastic demeanor by sneering at Harry. "And you think anyone would have believed me any more than they believed I was a spy? They only ever trusted me because of Dumbledore, and now," he gestured to the room around them as if this was what he had been rewarded with. "Stuck in Albania with nothing but the Golden Trio for company. It wouldn't have ended up any different. I still would have had to have done, what I have, and they would have stopped trusting me then."

"He wasn't begging you to stop," Harry whispered. He was examining Snape as if he were something he suddenly found very interesting. "Was he?" He sighed as if not expecting an answer then smiled slightly and looked back down at the board. "If it makes any difference Snape, I'm sorry, I won't doubt you again."

Lily watched as the scene faded into black and they found themselves in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place once more. They were all standing now, James at her side, Sirius and Remus a few steps behind them, the rest of the group all crowded around the table, Dumbledore and Harry standing the farthest away, a group of their own, waiting for a reaction.

It took a moment for Lily to realize that what everyone seemed to be waiting on, was James and her. She turned and looked at her husband to see what she could find from his eyes. The corners of his eyes wrinkled, and his lips twitched, and she gave a barely noticeable jerk of her head. Then James turned to Dumbledore and Harry and nodded.

"I think you should do it," he told them. "I think you should bring Snape here."


	14. Chapter 14: After Effects

A Second Chance

By S.L

Chapter Fourteen: After Effects

It had taken all of his nerve, and a calming draught or two to live through those memories again, but Harry had done so. If he had thought it hard showing them to Dumbledore in private, then showing the entire Order had been nearly unbearable. This was his family, many of whom he had seen die, and yet they didn't know him at all. He glanced over to Mrs. Weasley to see her staring back at him with a thoughtful expression on her plump face, and he had to look away. He had been in her home in one memory. He had been with her family, with her son, and she didn't even know he had _existed_ until an hour ago.

Dumbledore was speaking again, explaining who he was, that he was Lily and James' son, and that his parents had been dead in the memories they had just witnessed. He tuned the Headmaster's voice out and watched his mother's expression. She had revealed to him that very few had known she even had a son, so it was likely that the majority of the people around her never knew there had been a baby before Bran. He watched as her face colored in shame and embarrassment at having this publicly revealed to the Order, but she held her head up and kept her eyes firmly stationed on Dumbledore and ignored some of the glances that were being shot her way.

Everyone had taken a seat again, and Harry had settled for leaning against the far back door so that he could escape as soon as possible. The moment this meeting was over he wanted to get back to Hogwarts and back into seclusion so that he didn't have to confront his parents about anything they had seen or the decision that they had all come to make here tonight.

He wished he had the excuse of blaming Dumbledore for forcing him to attend the meeting tonight, but he knew that was a pointless argument. Even though Dumbledore had suggested it, Harry knew that it would be the only way to get these people to accept Snape. Even the Order in his world had never truly trusted Snape, and that had been after he had spent two decades as a spy proving himself on a constant basis. They wouldn't accept a man they openly knew was a Death Eater just on the word of a boy who shouldn't even exist. He had to provide something more concrete. Using the memories was the way Harry had persuaded Dumbledore, and the Headmaster had suggested the same technique to convince the Order. It hadn't been a long argument, and Harry had known he was going to lose from the beginning. One simply did not say no to Albus Dumbledore.

"Harry would you like to take this one?" Dumbledore said gently, looking back in Harry's direction from the head of the table.

Harry looked up blinking to find the room staring back at him expectantly. He must have dazed off a bit. "I'm sorry; could you repeat it for me?" He asked, pinching the inside of his arm to wake himself up a little more.

"How do you intend to even bring Snape to this world?" Bill asked curiously.

For a moment Harry just stared back. It was ironically amusing that only an hour ago this group had not wanted to even accept he was from another world. However, seeing the memories left little room for deceit. There was no way he could have made those scenes up, and it was obvious that they were of events that had never transpired here.

"It's complicated to explain," he said. "I have come up with a variation of the spell that was used to bring me here and come up with something that I _think_ might work." Merlin he hoped it worked; he had no real way of testing it though. "It requires a potion and a bit of spell work, but I managed to bring over a good amount of the potion that I used to activate the spell the first time, so I won't have to brew a new batch."

"Are you saying," Moody spoke up. "That it would be possible to bring more than one person over."

Harry winced; he did not like that as a possibility. "Theoretically yes, though maybe I should explain a little further. The spell is not exactly _light_ magic; by doing this I will be completely depleting my magic levels for weeks. I have only just fully recovered from my own journey. I will probably be inflicting the same damage on Snape. It is not at all a pleasant experience, but I am willing to undertake it, provided it is beneficial in the long run." He sighed; he really wasn't looking forward to that part, and the first time had been quite painful enough. "As for the potion… I do have _some_ remaining, but only enough really to use for one more spell," he blushed ashamed. "I admit I had not intended to bring anyone else over at all. I had intended to keep the potion in reserve in case something went wrong in my preliminary jump, and I needed to return to my world." He quickly avoided the gaze of his mum as her head snapped up.

"Snape was the original brewer of the potion that I used, and it is probably one of the most difficult potions that I have ever seen. It took nearly a year and a half to finish, under constant supervision. This is really a one time deal." His gaze crossed the room, trying to assess whether or not everyone understood that.

"Lily's a credited Potion's Mistress; couldn't she do it?" Tonks asked, pointing to his mum.

Harry's lips twitched. "I am not just doubting the capabilities of anyone to brew the potion, but there is also a morality issue. In doing this I will be ripping Snape involuntarily out his world. I can assure you that he will have no wish to come here, and will have no prior knowledge before the trip. It is not something I would want to do to anyone else."

"So why," Shacklebolt said his question ripping through the others which were starting up. "Are you prepared to do so to Snape?"

That shut Harry up. There were a lot of reasons really, not all of which he wanted to share with this crowd. Snape was no longer a welcome figure in the Wizarding world, not since Dumbledore's death. He wouldn't object to a new start—if forced into the situation—though he would never ask for one. Also, as much as Harry hated to admit it, he and Snape worked well together. He had been one of the best life teachers he had ever had. The man was rubbish with a classroom full of students, especially in Potions, but his style had always been very unorthodox. More importantly, Harry knew he could control Snape. Snape owed him more than any one man; he owed Harry a Wizarding Dept and he knew if necessary he could coerce him into an Unbreakable Vow. However, he didn't want to tell any of these things to the Order.

"Because," Harry said slowly, trying to make it up as he went along. "I know he won't be happy about the change, but I also know that he would do everything in his power to fight Voldemort no matter what the situation; in this world and the next. He's a guilt-ridden man, with many demons, and he would spend his entire lifetime trying to make up for the things he did during the few years he actually was a loyal Death Eater." Harry stopped as he remembered Dumbledore's death. "As well as for the things he did while pretending to be a loyal Death Eater."

"Well, what about the Order, then?" Moody snapped. "If the Death Eater is so damn special, then won't they resent us taking 'em?"

Harry shook his head. "Snape's value is useless in the war now," because the war was over, but he wasn't going to say that, no sense it getting anyone's hopes up. "He's cover was blown some time ago. He can no longer be a spy."

They seemed to accept that; a few of them nodded and started whispering in groups again.

"If this spell is so difficult," James asked suddenly. It was the first thing he had said since agreeing to Harry's plan. "Why should you be the one to do it?"

For a moment Harry just stared back into James' sad eyes, wishing he could convey what he felt in his own gaze so that the man would understand. He didn't want to alienate his own father that he had worked so hard to know, but things always got messed up for him. He couldn't tell him that he was more powerful than any of the other Order members, and at least as powerful, if not more powerful than Dumbledore himself. He couldn't tell him that he doubted that anyone else even had enough magic to use the spell without killing themselves.

Instead Harry settled on one answer. "I've done it before. I came here. I know what it's like. I know what to expect. I've experienced it. I have more experience with this spell, and I've done more research and more preparation than anyone else in this world. I'm the only logical candidate."

"I think," Dumbledore said, standing up again. "That any other questions are going to have to wait for another day. It's getting very late now and it's about time all of us headed out."

Gratefully Harry straightened up as he watched many of the others do the same and was ready to head for the door, but someone grabbed him by the arm.

Bill had jumped up from his seat and ran across the room before anyone else could get to him and pulled him to one side. Expecting a question Harry opened his mouth to ask what this was about, but Bill just jerked his head behind him.

Moving much slower than her son, Molly walked over to the corner with Harry and Bill and gave him a small smile. "Hello, Harry, it's very nice to meet you." She stuck out her hand, and Harry shook it, feeling very strange.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, though the situation felt very wrong. He shuffled his feet and tried not to look too uncomfortable.

She smiled at him gently and reached her arm out to grip Harry's shoulder. "You were at the Burrow," she said simply.

"Yes," Harry admitted with a sigh. It felt good to be honest about things for once. He didn't need to pretend they didn't know one another; at least Mrs. Weasley knew the truth. "I've spent a lot of holidays at the Burrow, since…" he looked over her shoulder in the direction of his own parents who were conversing with Sirius and Remus in low tones. It seemed that no one wanted to approach Harry while Mrs. Weasley had him cornered. "Well, I didn't have anywhere else to go," Harry finished. "Ron was my best mate."

Mrs. Weasley nodded as if this was what she had expected. "Yes, that would make sense. I just wanted to let you know that if you ever need anything Harry, I don't want you to hesitate to call on the Weasleys. You must have been one of the family in your… world… and I want you to know we're here for you in this one as well."

Harry felt touched. It was probably the kindest offer he had ever heard. "I'm sorry," he said, confused. "Why are you doing this for me? You really don't know who I am; you don't know if you can trust me or anything."

Again, Mrs. Weasley smiled, but she let her son, Bill answer. "You were wearing a Weasley jumper, mate," he said, slapping him good-naturedly on the back. "Mum has only ever made them for her children."

It was like a huge weight had just been taken off his shoulders. Harry felt better than he had in a long time, he laughed. "Merlin!" He cried out. "Given away by a jumper!"

"Yeah," Bill said, and then he leaned in conspiringly. "And if you want to return the favor, you can tell me who that blond girl with me was."

Though Mrs. Weasley japed her son playfully, she looked as if she expected an answer as well. Harry laughed at the ironic twist, Mrs. Weasley had hated Fleur, and it had only taken Bill being attacked by a werewolf for the two women to even reach an understanding.

"Fleur Delacour," he told Bill, smiling. "You met when you took a desk job, and she was working there part time to 'emprove 'er Eenglish.'"

"French!" Bill cheered, and threw his hands up in the air.

"Part Veela," Harry added with a wicked grin that left Bill gaping.

"Good lord," he groaned. "Maybe I really should come back and work that desk job then."

"You mean you're not?" Harry asked him.

"No," Mrs. Weasley said stiffly. "We've been asking him to do so for ages." Then she smiled. "Maybe now he will have some—_incentive_. Bill, could you collect my things so we can return to the Burrow; there's something else I want to ask Harry."

"Sure, Mum," Bill, said, then he patted Harry on the back again by means of goodbye and headed away. He didn't make it two steps before Tonks, who was bouncing up and down, accosted him with questions, but he seemed to be brushing them aside. Harry looked back at Mrs. Weasley who was looking grave.

"Harry," she said hesitantly. "I also noticed that… Ginny," she choked up and held a hand to her chest to regain control.

"Oh," Harry said, rocking back on his heels in understanding. "Yeah, she was there, at the Burrow, you mean?"

Mrs. Weasley just nodded.

"Oh," Harry said again. He wasn't sure quite how to explain this, especially to a woman who had just shown him so much kindness. "Listen, Mrs. Weasley," he said. "Ginny was a very different person in that world, in many ways." He bit his lip, how could he phrase this. "I fell in love with her," he said bluntly, trying not to blush. "Shortly after the memory you just witnessed at that Christmas. She was the most fantastic girl I had ever met in my entire life, and I would have married her if I was given the opportunity." Harry looked down at his feet as he realized that was true. It was the first time he had ever admitted it aloud, but it felt good to say, and he knew he meant it with all his heart.

"But," he continued, trying to work out the phrasing in his head. "She isn't the same person here; she's a Slytherin where there she was a Gryffindor, yeah Gryffindor." Harry told her when she perked up at the idea. "She's had a completely different life, and has a completely different attitude." Harry smiled widely at her. "And it doesn't matter a bit."

"I'm sorry?" Mrs. Weasley asked, not sure she had heard him. Harry shrugged.

"It doesn't matter at all. I let Ginny slip through my fingers once," he told her. "And I am not about to let that happen again. Just because she is in a different house does not mean that she is a different person. Deep down, somewhere, she's still the girl I used to love. We've spoken, and I think," he tilted his head. "I think she tolerates me," then he smiled. "But I'll make her love me; I won't give up. She might be with Malfoy right now, but I know she doesn't want to be with him. He is holding something over her; I know that he is. I promise Mrs. Weasley that I am going to do everything in my power to get her back."

She gave him a sad smile, and patted him gently on the arm. "I'm glad to hear you say she had the potential to be something better than what she has become, but Harry you need to realize," she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I love my daughter; she's the only one I have. I will always love her. But I know she isn't a good person, no matter what she was in your world. You can't expect her to be the same person. It's not that she is just in a different house; it's like you said; Ginny has had different experiences. She isn't going to be the same person you… you said you loved."

Harry sighed, he knew that was true too, but he didn't want to let that get to him. "I know, Mrs. Weasley, I really do. But I'm a risk taker," he smiled at her lopsidedly. "I took a risk in coming here, I'm taking a risk in proposing to bring Snape here, and I will take a risk on Ginny. You never know what might work out."

She nodded and smiled. "I really do mean what I just said Harry. If you ever need anything, you are always welcome in my home."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, the words barely coming out of his choked throat.

Then to his delight she hugged him, just as she had so many times before, and patted his back. When she broke apart she smiled, joined her son by the fireplace and flooed back to the Burrow.

"That was some show," Sirius said jumping up to sit on the counter next to Harry.

Harry looked over at him and nodded. "The Weasleys are a special type of people, you know? I don't think anyone else could ever compare."

"The Potter's are pretty unique too," Sirius said dryly and pointed to where Lily and James were locked in an embrace looking as if they were trying to talk one another into something. They looked very intimate, and their fleeting glances around the room gave away a sense of urgency. Harry looked away in shame. How had he managed to do this to them?

"Don't beat yourself up about it, kid," Sirius said when he noticed Harry's expression. "It's hard on them, you know. I mean they are really the only people you never knew in your world and as much as you might want to get to know them, you still trust all these people more.

"I mean, me," Sirius said. "I was your godfather: we had a bond, you trust me, and you get along with me. There isn't any ice that needs breaking, and I like that. I like that we can get along so well and that you can talk to me. The same goes with Remus; you're comfortable with him. I saw you two talking a lot over Christmas; you didn't keep things from him." Sirius pointed to Dumbledore. "Obviously you don't have a problem around Dumbledore; you don't hold anything back there. We saw from those memories that you were probably close enough to rage at one another," he laughed. "Trust me, that was a shocker. I don't think any of us has ever seen someone scream their head off at the Headmaster.

"We've all heard you say the Weasley's were like family, and watching you interact with Molly and Bill just now was enough proof. But still, where Lily and James are concerned…" his voice trailed off a bit. "You try, I don't doubt that you do, but…"

"I know," Harry admitted to the floor. "I should be trying harder. It's just so much easier to confide in the people who I already have a history with. They," he raised a hand and motioned towards his parents, now in a conversation with Moody. "They are like a dream to me, Sirius. I mean I've spent my entire life wishing I had parents, and now that I do," he shrugged, "I just don't know what to do with them. I don't know how to react. I don't know what to tell them. I just don't… _know_!"

Sirius reached a hand over and ruffled the hair on the top of Harry's head. "Welcome to life, kid!" He said. "It's all about not knowing! But I'll tell you this; I think James and Lily would settle for just not being kept in the dark all the time. Have you told them about being a parselmouth yet, for instance?"

"No," Harry said. "I will, but… Sirius, it's really not as simple as all that."

He jumped down off the counter and shook his head sadly. "It never is simple, Harry. We just have to buck up, do the best we can, and hope it all works out in the end," he shrugged.

The words were nice, and Harry knew Sirius meant well, but it really _was_ more complicated than that. "I'll try; I will, Sirius. Though things are going to get very busy, very soon and I've got a lot of things to focus on."

"You know, Harry," said Sirius. "No one expects you to save the world or anything. You're just a kid, not even old enough to get out of school yet. Even if you have come from another world and had a few more experiences than most, no one thinks you're any different than the next bloke. Normally, someone as young as you are would never even attend an Order meeting. Dumbledore made an exception. You came here tonight, you'll do the spell, set up Snape, and be done with it. Maybe we'll ask for your help in a few years, if you're still willing, but in the mean time there are professionals to take care of this. You've done enough already."

Harry actually threw back his head, and snorted when no laugh came out. It really would be nice to believe that no one expected him to save the world, but the truth of the matter was he _was_ the one who _had_ to save the world. "Sirius," he said. "I really appreciate it, but the truth is, I'm not doing enough. I'm doing a hell of a lot less than I should and if you only knew…" he shook his head, but didn't complete the thought. "I disagree," he said simply. "It's not up to the professionals, and that has been a big part of the problem all along. It's why you're losing the war, yes _losing_," Harry said. "I think it's time you learned to take the help offered at every opportunity."

"Maybe, Harry," Sirius said, though he didn't look convinced at all. "I'm just asking you to relax a bit, and spend some time with your family." He shrugged. "I learned a long time ago that if you obsess and devote your entire life to the war and holding off Voldemort, you've given him your life itself. Don't let him control your life; it's no better than death. You need to take the time to appreciate the family and friends you have around you."

Harry blinked and looked away. In that much, he knew Sirius was right. It hit too close to the target. That was what Harry's life had become back in his world. He had watched as all of his friends die, obsessed over killing Voldemort, and never took the time to appreciate what he had. He'd always thought of what he'd lost.

"So why aren't you asking me any questions about my memories?" Harry asked, wanting to get off the subject.

"There will be time enough for that later, Besides," he smiled, "I think you'll have plenty of people asking you about them over the next few days. We'll talk later, or you can expect a heavy letter from me tomorrow."

"Thanks, Sirius," Harry said gratefully.

Sirius just shook his head and walked off, leaving Harry alone.

As his godfather left him, Harry looked around the room to see who would approach him next. His parents were speaking with Dumbledore now, and only the Aurors remained still sitting at the table. Tonks, Shacklebolt, and now Sirius. Remus was nowhere in sight.

Shacklebolt looked up and met his eyes briefly, nodded, but then returned to his conversation. Harry looked over at his parents next, and thought about what Sirius had said. Then he sighed, shook his head and walked out the door into the hall. He left the pensive and his memories on the table. Dumbledore would bring those back to him later; he didn't much feel like collecting them now.

"Harry," a hand reached out to grab him. Remus was standing just outside the door.

"Hey, Remus," said Harry, waiting to hear what question he would have.

"I just wanted to say be careful going home tonight; it's starting to rain."

Harry stared at the older man for a minute and then he smiled. "Is that it? No comments? Questions? Anything?"

Remus smiled back at him. "No, I, like Sirius, have plenty of questions. I just think it would be better to let you answer to Lily and James before I try and butt in."

At that Harry's smile faded. So that's what they had been deciding after the meeting ended. He glanced towards the doorway and saw Tonks lingering just on the other side, most likely waiting for him to leave so she could have a moment alone with Remus.

"Goodnight, Remus," Harry told his old friend.

"Goodnight, Harry."

Then he turned around and headed for the front door and left.

Rather than using the Floo network, Harry apparated back to Hogsmeade and opted for the long walk back. Even though it was beginning to drizzle, as Remus had told him, he knew the extra time to think would do him good. Besides, he still intensely disliked the sensation of the Floo network, and even though apparating wasn't much better, it was still his favored option.

The rain was cold and chilled him to the bone, but he didn't conjure up an umbrella or cast a charm to keep him dry. Instead he let the rain wash over him. On some days one just felt like having a lonely walk in the rain. It seemed fitting for the situation.

He needed to have a talk with Lily and James. He needed to explain things to them as he had to Dumbledore. Dumbledore was easy though; it felt rather like cheating since the old man always seemed to know about everything anyway. He was rarely ever surprised.

Not that Harry had told him much. He had still kept a great deal of his secrets. However, Dumbledore now knew that Harry had played at least a minor role in the war, he knew he had been in the Order, and had been tutored by many of the Order members after he left Hogwarts. They hadn't breeched the topic of the horcruxes yet, or the fact that Voldemort had been defeated in his world. As far as Dumbledore knew, Harry was just an unusually bright and perceptive young wizard who had taken an active interest in the war. Although the fact that he had told him Voldemort had been targeting him was probably seen as an incentive.

Though Harry had not told Dumbledore about the prophecy, he had hinted that such a prophecy existed to judge the Headmaster's reaction. As far as Harry could tell, Dumbledore didn't know about any sort of prophecy, so Harry had to assume that no such prophecy was made, or at least overheard. Harry had apologized and said that he was sorry; he didn't know what the actual prophecy was, (and he was careful to omit that it included him), but that it was common knowledge that a prophecy had been made about Voldemort's demise, and he was determined to bring down the Order and anyone associated so that it could not be fulfilled. That, at least, explained why Voldemort had targeted him on the few occasions Harry had admitted. Well, also the fact that Harry had said that after his parents had been killed Voldemort had been after him so that he could finally end the Potter line.

He would have to tell his parents something, something that at least lined up what he had told Dumbledore. It was strange; he had never really cared how his friends knew about him back in his world, and it had simply been accepted. He had always been The-Boy-Who-Lived and anyone close to him knew that. But now, with his parents, he didn't want them to know anything. He wasn't sure what he was afraid of—rejection perhaps? Being powerful, intelligent, and accomplished wasn't anything to be afraid of when you thought about it. He had no real reason to hide that. No, what he was afraid of was everything else that came along with it. He had come here to be normal, to have a second chance, and that was that.

His thoughts trailed again to Mrs. Weasley and Bill. He couldn't believe how much their acceptance meant to him. They hadn't questioned him. They hadn't accused him. They had just taken him in without a second thought. All it had taken was the sight of him sitting in their parlor with a heavy Weasley jumper on. It was amazing. Of course, he still couldn't expect for that to be an instant relationship, even if they had told him to stop by the Burrow at any time. It had been a gesture only, and even Harry knew that they would have to get to know him first before they really, truly welcomed him into the family. But he intended to be a part of the Weasleys lives again. Already he knew he would tell Ron eventually who he was, and Hermione too. Just as he knew he had already resigned himself to breaking the truth to his siblings. But he wouldn't be ready for any of that for a while. First he had a lot of work to clear away before he could really take the time to build up personal relationships again.

Then there was Ginny. He had promised Mrs. Weasley that he was going to become a part of Ginny's life again, and Harry knew he meant it. In his world he'd pushed Ginny aside so many times, trying to protect her, even when he knew she knew what was best for her. He had only realized how much she really meant to him shortly before her death; by then it had been too late. She had died, as he had always known she would if he let them be together, but he had, and now she was gone.

This Ginny was so different, but so similar at the same time. He didn't think she really was as jaded and cynical as she made herself out to be. He thought he had caught a glimmer of her compassion and loyalty in there somewhere; he only needed to find a way to bring it out. That meant getting her away from Malfoy and getting her to want him instead. He thought she already did want him, at least enough to spike her curiosity. Although he hadn't spoken to her since the day he had fought with Malfoy, he had caught her staring at him at meal times, and occasionally in Potions class. All trace of her former games and teasing were gone. These glances were thoughtful and meaningful. He was just waiting for the next time he caught her on her own.

By now Harry was climbing the steps into Hogwarts, and he was soaked. The rain hadn't been very constant or heavy, but it had been enough to leave him damp and his shoes muddy. It was already very late; most students would be in their common rooms by now, and Harry really should be thinking about getting to bed. First though, he wanted a nice warm shower, or a nice soak in the tub. After that, and a good night's sleep, and maybe he would be ready to deal with all of the problems tomorrow would bring.

As soon as he opened the front door, he knew that was too much to ask.

James was sitting, obviously waiting for him, at the foot of the main staircase. His head was in his hands, which were resting on his knees, and he looked as if he was willing to wait all night if necessary. He looked up as Harry came in, soaked and dirty, dripping on the floor.

"You're going to make me explain myself now aren't you?" Harry said dejectedly. He really had been hoping to be able to sleep on his thoughts before having this confrontation with his father. Also he had been hoping to get to Lily first so that she could soften James up. Lily was a much more understanding person, and James took a little convincing before he came around.

"Right in one," James said and straightened up. He looked Harry over and waved his wand.

"Thanks," Harry said, James hadn't done much for the mud, but at least now he was dry. Though he really _had_ wanted to have that bath. "Do you think we could at least talk in the kitchens then? I didn't have a chance to eat, and if we're going to do this then I'd like a huge serving of something with caffeine in front of me."

"Very well," he said and they started walking in the direction of the kitchens.

"So," Harry said to fill the time as they walked. "You just want to talk, you and me?"

"Yeah," James said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and stashing his wand away. "Lily's going to bed. She said she could wait to talk to you in the morning."

"I take it you didn't think you could wait that long then?" Harry said, still hopeful. James gave him a look so Harry said, "I guess not."

The rest of the walk passed in silence, and Harry stood back while James tickled the pear and they stepped into the kitchen.

There were still a few House Elves about who were only too happy to collect food and drink for the pair of them and set them up in the corner so they could be alone. To Harry's surprise, the House Elves were just as excited to see James as they were to see him. James was very polite with all of them, and seemed to know most of them by name. Although, Harry thought, he wasn't sure why he thought they wouldn't. From what he had heard, the Marauders had been frequent guests in the kitchens during their Hogwarts days, and since James was a professor now, it only made sense for him to be a regular.

"Comfortable now?" James asked rather stiffly. He had given Harry the chance to down a few bites of the dinner the House Elves had insisted on supplying, but obviously he didn't want to wait any longer to start the discussion.

Harry reluctantly put down his fork and nodded.

"I want you to tell me the truth, Harry. I want you to be completely honest with me. Now. Not later. Right now." James said.

Just as serious, Harry nodded again, taking in what James was saying. "I don't think I can do that," he said slowly. "I will be honest in everything that I tell you tonight, but I think I need to ask you to respect the fact that I have secrets, and I always will. There is only so much I am willing to share, even with you."

"Very well," said James, but he didn't seem too happy about this. "Let's start with why you didn't bother to tell Lily or I about the plans you revealed tonight."

"Honestly?" Harry said. "I'm not entirely sure. I—" he reached for his cup of tea, and let his hand wrap around it's handle. "Sirius brought it to my attention tonight that I have been acting like a complete pillock, and I have to say I agree with him."

James made no move to argue, so Harry continued.

"I think… I think I'm having a problem being around you and Mum," Harry admitted and then quickly glanced at James to gage his reaction. James hadn't even blinked. "Right, well, that is to say, that I'm not used to you. Everyone else here, I know—for years in some cases. Even the Order members tonight, I know each by name, have spent time with them at some point or another. All of my teachers and classmates are people I knew…"

"And Bran and Mare?" said James.

His mouth hung open and then Harry shut it wordlessly. How did he explain his relationship with Bran and Mare? "They—well, we're kids. It's easier when you're kids. Besides, they don't know the truth, so they have no reason to care how much attention I give them, or what I say around them."

Though he did have to admit that they were acting rather strange around him recently, Hermione too. Like they were walking on eggshells around him, and Mare had suddenly become very emotional. Only yesterday, when she had seen him outside the library after lunch she had flung her arms around her neck and refused to let go until he gently explained that he was going to be late for class.

This time it was James' turn to look embarrassed. "They should be told, but Lily has to be ready first. I have to let her make the final call on this one," he shook his head, and Harry wondered if this was something his parents had disagreed on. "Very well, I suppose I can accept that," he sighed. "Harry, I just want to know what's going on. I just want to know _you_."

"Do you, really?" Harry said, and met James' eyes. His Dad met his gaze solemnly and nodded. Harry licked his lips and took a deep breath. "Fine then, crash course on Harry Potter…" he paused to think. Annoyingly the standard biography the Prophet used to print whenever he was mentioned in the paper popped into his head first. He pushed that thought away and tried to think of something else.

"I haven't had an easy time of things, obviously. The war started up after my fifth year at school, though that isn't to say that each of those five years previous hadn't been enough to deal with. Since I didn't die with you and Mum that night, I've been targeted for pretty much my whole life. I've had more defense teachers try to kill me than teach me." He glared at James mockingly. "You aren't trying to kill me are you?"

James did not find the comment funny.

"Okay… well, I know you didn't agree with me about the other day," Harry continued, referring to his duel with Malfoy and later confrontation with Lucius. "I suppose it would be too much of a stretch to tell you I know what I'm doing—" at least I _think_ I know what I'm doing, he added in his own head. "—Without explaining a bit of history, so I'm sorry I didn't tell you what was going on. See…" he screwed up his face as he tried to think of the right words. "I was involved with the war in my world. I'm not used to just sitting on the sidelines and letting other people do all the work. I've fought too, and I've won." At a price, he added in his head, before quickly pushing away those thoughts. "I'd be an Auror today if I was still in my world, and if the Ministry hadn't wanted to manipulate me."

"Harry," James said finally speaking. "That's the point I am getting at. _This is not your world_. You made a conscious choice in coming here and…" he sighed. "Don't get me wrong, I _am_ still glad you did, but… You have to try to accept the reality of the situation. Things aren't going to be the same. You aren't going to be treated the same. You _can't_ be the same person."

James words were softly spoken and sincere so Harry stared back at him for a moment as he thought them over. He was right, and Harry knew it. He stared down at the table top in front of him and closed his eyes.

"I know," said Harry. He thought he sounded weary even to himself. "I know," he repeated and opened his eyes so he could look at James while he spoke. "Unfortunately this isn't just about me. I—I know things about Voldemort, about the Order, about the war…" he swallowed heavily. "Things that can help. By keeping that knowledge to myself I could be condemning hundreds of people to Voldemort's twisted games, or even death at his hands. What would you have me do? Sit aside and watch him kill the people I love all over again?"

There was a long string of silence. The only sound was of James' fingernail as it slowly tapped the side of his chair.

"No," said James finally. "I'd have you tell me these things, tell Lily and Dumbledore, give us the information and then we can take it to the Order. We can act on what you give us, but there is no reason for you to do so."

Bitterly, Harry smiled. "What if it isn't only information? What if it's _me_?"

"I don't understand," said James.

Almost moving on its own accord, Harry's hand reached up and pushed away his fringe so he could finger the long scar that ran down his forehead. How do you tell someone that you are connected to Voldemort? His fingers stroked down its length and then his hand fell back down into his lap heavily.

"Harry, this is what I was asking for," James told him gently. "You can tell me."

His mouth opened, as Harry searched for the words. But nothing came out. For a few short moments his mouth worked around the nonexistent syllables until he sighed. "There's so much you don't know," Harry said as his mind wandered to everything he had learned over the past few years—Voldemort, the horcruxes, his scar and the prophecy. How could he possibly explain all that?

"Then tell me, Harry," James insisted and for the first time Harry detected a hint of desperation in his voice.

He looked at James and felt like he was seeing him for the first time. His dad looked so tired and so worn. He was worried, that much was clear. But it wasn't that which drew Harry's attention. It was the love that he saw in his eyes, the look that he had seen mirrored on so many faces from his past. Sirius, Ginny, Hermione and Ron, Mrs. Weasley, Dumbledore… James really wanted to help him.

"I'm a parselmouth," Harry said suddenly.

James drew back and blinked, caught somewhere between surprise, disbelief, and horror.

Harry blinked back, trying to figure out what had prompted him to say that. For some reason it was the first thing that popped into his head. He remembered earlier that night Sirius urging him to tell James.

Slowly James licked his lips and nodded. "Okay," he said and then Harry knew why he had just told James something so out of the blue.

He wanted to see what James' reaction to that would be. Getting him to accept that he had a very obviously Slytherin trait might help him understand his connection to Voldemort and everything that went along with it.

"So," James said next, trying to work along that train of thought. "Voldemort is also a parselmouth, which meant that you could… I don't know… communicate with him where no one could… or turn his snake against him… what?"

"Er—no, that's not what I meant," Harry said. How could he salvage this? "Well, yes, but… I mean, I could talk to his snake, but it wouldn't do me much good since the thing wanted to kill me as badly as its master did… and I could talk with Voldemort, but…" He shook his head and tried to reconstruct his thoughts. "What I was getting at, was that a lot of the things in my past aren't—good, per se. No, that's not what I mean either," he sighed again. "I mean, there are things about me that aren't good, but I mean them in a good way?"

"I'm trying to understand here, Harry, really I am," said James. "But you aren't making much sense to me here."

Slowly Harry's hand fell and made contact with the table, which issued a dull thud sound. "I suppose I should start at the beginning then? Work my way from there?"

"The beginning is usually good," James said and leaned back in his chair.

"I was, um…" Harry picked at a splinter at the table and tried not to look at James. "Well, a big deal, I guess," he glanced quickly up to see James trying not to smirk at the statement. Harry didn't find anything funny about it. "Because Voldemort couldn't kill me," James' smirk faded. "He tried, and instead…" he shrugged. "I killed him, only not really."

A twitch of a grin was back on James' face; clearly he didn't believe what Harry was saying. "I'm sorry, you _killed_ Voldemort?"

Not the time I'm talking about, Harry thought. "No. You can't kill Voldemort—that's my point. It isn't possible, not anymore," he said.

"What?" said James.

"He's taken steps towards immortality; even if you had your wand to his temple when you spoke the killing curse, he would only lose his body." Harry didn't want to see the expressions that were passing over James' face so he looked back at the table. "I did that. When I was a baby. Only then, no one knew about his immortality. Most people thought he died. No one knew how I did it, but his killing curse rebounded off me and hit him instead. That's why I was famous," he looked up at James again into his wide eyes. "They called me The-Boy-Who-Lived."

"I'm sorry, Harry," said James then. "I'm trying to believe you here, but… this isn't true is it?"

For a fleeting moment Harry considered smiling and taking this last opportunity to pass everything off as a joke. The moment quickly passed and Harry remained staring solemnly back at James.

His dad closed his eyes, rubbed his temples and leaned back in the chair. "Go on then," he said.

"Dumbledore made me live with the Dursleys in case any remaining Death Eaters decided to come after me," Harry said. "I didn't know anything about who I was, or what I was until I was eleven and then I went to Hogwarts," the corners of his lips twitched. "And that's when things got interesting. I came face to well… a sort of face with Voldemort by the end of my first year. He was trying to return to the body I deprived him of so many years earlier. The trend only continued from then. If it wasn't Voldemort trying to kidnap or kill me, it was one of his Death Eaters. A few weeks before my fifteenth birthday he had regained a body, then just before I turned sixteen the Ministry and the Wizarding World had to finally recognize that Voldemort was back."

Harry glanced over at James to try and see what his expression would reveal. His dad looked oddly serene, as if he was listening to a whole different story than the one Harry was telling him.

"Er… then things just broke apart," Harry said, now feeling a little hesitant about continuing. He wasn't sure what sort of a reaction he had expected, but he thought there might be some sort of questions or disbelief… any sort of emotion at all might be nice. "The war started up, as did the Order, and suddenly everyone was looking to me for a solution… I—I'm sorry," Harry said finally, unable to take the placid look on his father's face any longer. "But are you alright?"

Sadly James smiled and nodded. "I think I understand things a bit better now, Harry, and I'm sorry I pushed you to speak. I think you were right, this is a conversation best had on a rested mind, how about we talk tomorrow instead?"

Harry blinked and furrowed his brow. "Tomorrow? I thought that you wanted all your questions answered and to know me and all that?"

"I do, Harry, I do," James said, reaching a hand across to pat Harry's gently. "But you've already given me much to think about and it has been a long night hasn't it?"

"But…" something wasn't right with the way this conversation was ending. That much was clear to Harry. What on earth had gotten into James; didn't he believe him?

"Tomorrow, Harry. We both need rest," James retracted his hand and gave Harry an odd smile. Then he stood up and waved to the House Elves in the corner. "Thanks for the dinner, guys, I'll see you later, and Harry," he nodded to his son. "Why don't you come by my office tomorrow afternoon if I haven't seen you by then?"

Even if he had the time to respond before James turned and left the kitchen, Harry wouldn't have known what to say. Had everyone in this damn world gone mental? After all this time spent worrying about whether or not he should keep his secrets he finally opened up and to what?

Now adding angry and confused to his previous list of discomforts that had included tired, thoughtful, a headache, and still muddy clothes Harry thanked the House Elves himself and retreated back to the now pitch dark corridors of Hogwarts.

As he walked all the other emotions faded into the background until all he felt was dizzy. His head was aching again, a reminder of his past turning to taunt his present and predetermine his future. Somewhere out there he knew Voldemort and his Death Eaters were holding court to further their evil.

Harry felt like a kid again, not the twenty-year-old young man with age gained through experience. No, he felt as if he were back in his early Hogwarts days, discovering his destiny all over again. No one listened to his warnings, no one would accept his help, and no one was _doing_ anything!

Suddenly furious, Harry smacked an open palm against the wall, startling the portraits round him.

"Watch it, boy!" An elderly wizard in a powdered wig chided him from his frame.

"Sorry," Harry muttered back as he continued on.

It wasn't fair of him to think that way. Not everyone was ignoring his suggestions. Wasn't it just that night that he had addressed the Order? Wasn't he the one who would be undertaking the dangers of arranging for Snape to cross-worlds? Dumbledore wasn't ignoring Harry's talents and offers of help. Dumbledore knew that Harry could prove beneficial to the movement.

But Harry hadn't crossed worlds to please Dumbledore. He had come to have a family, for James and for lily. And now James clearly thought he was unbalanced.

Harry shook his head in disgust and glanced around, taking in his surroundings for the first time since leaving the kitchens. He had been on autopilot heading towards Gryffindor Tower, but as he glanced at the sleeping portrait of the Fat Lady he realized that the last thing he was ready for was bed. Despite the late (or very early morning) hour the thought of trying to calm his thoughts enough for sleep was unthinkable.

Abruptly he turned and headed instead for the Astronomy Tower. The hour was absurd enough for students to have finished with their cross-House trysts. He would be left alone long enough to battle out all that had occurred that night.

As it was Harry had barely settled himself near the edge of the ledge when an all too familiar scent was caught on the wind and brought to him. He groaned aloud; whether in desire, relief, or despair he did not know. He turned to see Ginny sitting a little ways off, blinking at him curiously. He blinked back. She almost smiled. He did not.

They both turned to look over the battlements together in recognition of their mutual thoughtfulness. Both had come to this secluded spot to be alone, there was no reason that they couldn't accomplish that just as easily together. The irony of their location didn't escape his attention.

For a long while they were silent, but Harry could already feel his conscious mind calming. He put the comforting feeling down to Ginny's presence. The situation was almost reminiscent of their dating days at Hogwarts when they used to spend long hours silently thinking parallel thoughts about the war.

"It is very rude not to say hello you know," said Ginny.

Harry did not turn to look at her. "Hello then."

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Thinking. Aren't you?"

"No," she did not elaborate.

He tilted his head so he could gauge her answer. He had a profile view of her face. Her cheek was pink and her eye rimmed in red, she had been crying. He himself had caused that reaction in her often enough to readily recognize it.

She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, but he saw her eyes harden.

They settled back into silence. Harry let his vision drift towards the Quidditch Pitch and he realized that he still hadn't had the chance to play. Then there was a slight rustling of cloth and he felt rather than saw Ginny move to sit next to him. She stopped a hands span away and sat, not too close to touch, but near enough to be intimately personal.

"Do you think I'm pretty, Harry?"

Harry held his breath at the question, but didn't answer.

She tried again after a brief pause. "Are you attracted to me, Harry?"

He remained quite and glanced down at his hands folded in his lap.

"Then why," she demanded, her voice now resembling the confident tone he remembered her for. "Did you have to interfere with Draco?"

She had turned her face so he had a broad view and watched him. Harry took in her watery eyes and puffy features then found his gaze wandering downward. Her scarf had been unwound from her neck to hang loosely around her shoulders. As a consequence her neck and collarbone were bare, despite the night chill, and Harry saw the clear hand shaped purple bruise marked around her shoulder and throat.

He felt something constrict around his own throat as if he was the one who had his oxygen threatened. For a moment, for the first time in his life, he felt more hatred for someone other than Voldemort. The dull pain of his scar faded into an ignorable pulse.

Ginny had turned back, but Harry could see the other mans mark burned into his vision.

"Gin," Harry whispered. It was the first time he had called her as such. "Why are you with him?"

At first he thought she might not have heard him, or if she had, that she had chosen not to answer. Then she laughed, loudly and bitterly. "Why, Harry?" she laughed again. "Why not? Malfoy, Zabini, Flint? What difference does it make?"

Harry reached a hand up and placed a tentative finger against the bruise on her throat. It struck him how cold and dead she felt. He reminded himself that it was only the cold of the air around them that made her feel that way. "This," he said as he touched her softly then slowly pulled away. "Is the difference."

"Who are you?" she said, voice choking on unshed grief. For a brief second he thought she meant the question literally, as if she were asking for his name, but then she continued. "Who are you to think you know me?"

"You deserve better, Gin," said Harry softly.

She leaned towards him until he felt her lips against his ear. "Are you going to save me, Harry?" she whispered. He shivered in response; he could even feel her lips form a smile before she continued. "Do you think I need a hero to take me away from all of my problems?"

Harry pulled away, separating them again and tried to force his arm up between them. "Ginny, stop it. Don't do this."

"Just answer the question," she added boldly. "Are you going to stop Draco from hurting me? From sneaking into my dorm at nights?" she laughed; it was harsh and twisted, nothing at all like the full bursts he knew. "You don't know what happens in the Slytherin common room do you, Harry? What control he has… what power his father has—the Malfoy influence." She moved her lips forward and attached them to the side of his neck, just below his ear and gave him a little nibble.

Disgusted at the turn her attitude had taken Harry screwed his eyes shut and wrenched his body away.

"What's the matter, Harry?" she taunted. "I thought you cared for me. Don't you want to see what I can do for you?"

He refused to look at her and instead just concentrated on keeping his breathing under control.

"I thought not," she said in quite a different voice. She had stood up, straightened her scarf around her again and returned to her usual cold manner. "You don't know what you want, Potter. You don't know what you're getting involved with at all."

Then without another word she was gone.

Harry did not leave until morning.


	15. Chapter 15: Unanswered Questions

A Second Chance

By S.L

Chapter 15: Unanswered Questions: An Interlude

"I want to know who he is, Severus," Lucius hissed as he shot a curse at the nearest target. The bush blew away in a shower of sparks. The two Death Eaters watched it absently.

"You know who he is, Lucius," Severus remarked when all that was left was a pile of faintly burning twigs.

Lucius glared at him and continued stalking on, not waiting to see if the other would follow. "Of course I know who he is, but that's not enough. I need more information."

"And what do you expect me to do?" Severus hissed back.

"Are you the spy or aren't you?" said Lucius, stopping to blast apart the underbrush around a tree.

Severus glared at him and sneered. "I'm a spy for the Dark Lord, Lucius. Not for you personally."

The heavy snake cane in Lucius' left hand pressed firmly into the dirt. "Then remind me why I pay you so handsomely, Severus?"

The other did not answer.

Lucius allowed his hand to relax and turned to the other man. "I want everything on him. I must know how he did this. How did he plant that memory in my head?"

At that Severus raised a thin eyebrow and something of a smirk began to grow in the corner of his lips. "An added memory? Well, that's the first I heard of that. I thought all the Dark Lord has was a suspicion… Something about an article, I heard?"

Grinding his teeth together Lucius glared and debated on how much he should reveal. "You're the Occulmens, not I, Severus. I know what I experienced and whatever scene the Dark Lord pulled from my head wasn't it. Not even close," he growled.

A small rabbit hopped out of the bushes and started munching on a patch of grass. Both Death Eaters ignored it and continued to glare at one another.

"Then he suspects you of treachery?" Severus said after considering Lucius' words for a moment.

"Indeed," Lucius drawled, he twirled his wand in one hand; twisting it around his long, thin fingers. "I want everything about that boy you can find out. I want to know his hopes and dreams. I want to know his friends. I want to know what sort of marks he gets on his transfiguration essays. I want to know what his favorite bloody pudding is—do you understand me?" Lucius calmed his breath and when he had himself under more firm control he started again. "My son tells me that Potter has shown an unusual amount of interest in his little girlfriend. I plan to use that to my advantage, but I still need your assistance."

Severus nodded. "Then what do you intend to do?"

The snake headed cane was driven further into the loose earth around the tip. "What I intend, Severus, is to make him wish he was never born." Then Lucius caught the base of his wand again and pointed. "Crucio!"

And they both paused and listened while the rabbit screamed and screamed.

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"What I want to know," James growled, grinding the words against his teeth in an effort to get them out of his mouth. "Is why you are continuing to allow him to think he's involved?"

Relaxed as ever Dumbledore took a sip of his tea. "That," he said after placing the china down on his desk. "Is because he is involved, James, and I welcome his support."

James glared back at him in cold fury. "He's clearly out of his mind, Albus."

"Ah, ah," Dumbledore interrupted while holding up a finger. "Out of his world, James. Not his mind. Though I daresay there are many reasons to confuse the two."

Blinking James tried to follow the old man's logic, and as usual, failed to. He quickly recovered. "He thinks he's a damn hero, Albus. He thinks he's faced Death Eaters, killed Voldemort and Gods knows what else." He slammed a fist down on the desktop. "For Merlin's sake, Albus, he called himself the Living Boy!"

"If my memory serves it's The-Boy-Who-Lived, actually," Dumbledore corrected.

Again James was left gaping. Squeezing his eyes shut James leaned back and hoped that the chair he had vacated earlier was still behind him. It was.

"James," Dumbledore began in a more soothing tone. "There is so much about Harry's situation that is hard to believe, but that doesn't make him any more insane than the rest of us. Why are you having such a hard time trusting him?"

James ran a hand across his face and paused to massage his temples. Suddenly tired and drained he dropped the hand and looked across the desk at Dumbledore. "You can't honestly believe him, Albus." It was a statement, not a question.

"Can you honestly not?" Dumbledore shot back, eyes twinkling.

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"Where have you been?" Draco asked the moment she stepped into the common room.

She hesitated, bracing her feet against the cold stone floor. Her cheeks were still sporting tear tracks. "Nowhere," she whispered back while trying to desperately ignore the pounding of the blood in her veins.

He stood up from the couch and she involuntarily flinched back. "I thought I told you to stay in your room," he said, but to her relief he didn't sound angry.

"Sorry, Draco," she muttered, and held her cheek out as he reached to cup it. "I only wanted some fresh air. You know how stuffy it gets in the dungeons sometimes."

His frown weakened and he pressed his lips to her forehead. She allowed herself to relax into his hold and wrapped her arms around his lean form.

"I thought you were forgetting our discussion already," he said, the words bouncing off her hair as his lips nudged at her ear. "I thought you were forgetting the debt you owe." A hand snaked its way over her shoulders and his fingers gripped over her bruise causing her to wince.

"Never, Draco," she whispered. Her eyes were cast downward and she was trying desperately to keep them from watering at his touch.

"Pansy hasn't been bothering you again, has she?" he asked, still letting his lips rub against her skin as he spoke.

She just closed her eyes and shook her head against his.

"Good," he said firmly. Then he relaxed and tenderly brushed the hair out of her face. "I trust you, you know," he said. "I know you'll remember where your loyalties lie when the time comes."

For the first time since she entered the empty common room Ginny looked up into Draco's eyes. "I always remember to whom I owe my loyalty, Draco," she said in a confidant voice.

He smirked a little, but nodded. "And I also know I told you to stay away from Potter, but…" then he backed away from her entirely and moved towards the fire and his seat again.

Obedient and curious, Ginny followed, and perched in her usual spot on the couch next to him. When she sat he placed a balancing arm around her waist and pulled her closer while waving a piece of parchment in his other hand.

"I had a letter from father while you were gone," his usually hard eyes dulled for a moment before the moment passed. "There's something that you need to do for us."

Briefly she closed her eyes and allowed herself to take in a deep breath, then they were open again and she nodded. "Tell me what you want me to do, Draco."

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"What are you still doing up?" Bran asked as he plodded down the boys staircase.

Mare glanced up from her books long enough to give him a tired shrug. "Waiting for Hermione to get back from her rounds, I guess," she said.

Resisting the urge to yawn Bran walked over and fell onto the cushion next to her. He glanced over at the empty parchment on the table and noticed the heavy lines beneath her eyes. He raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't look like you're getting much work done."

She shook her head. "No, I don't suppose I am."

Thoughtfully he let his eyes rove over her workstation again. It wasn't like her to waste time when she could be working. Then again it wasn't like her to stay up past midnight either. "You're thinking about it all again," he said suddenly.

"You're not?" she said, turning her dark eyes on him.

Bran bit his bottom lip and worried it for a moment or two. "Yeah," he said finally. "Yeah I am."

With a little pout Mare fell back against the pillows and crossed her arms over her chest. "It just doesn't make sense. Mum and dad keeping him from us all these years and him suddenly coming home and everything. Do you think they ever intend to tell us?"

He shrugged, but he didn't have the answer anymore than she did. "You know they aren't going to tell us, Mare. I—I tried to ask mum today, about Harry, I mean," he ignored Mare's sudden curious glare. "All I said was I wanted to know more about him and… you know, his parents and stuff," he glanced over at his sister and wrinkled his nose. "She started crying, and I couldn't get her to stop so I just dropped it and told her I'd talk to her later."

"I guess she's pretty upset by all this then, too," said Mare. "I mean if they had a death certificate for him it's probably definite that him being here is new to them, too," she paused to think for a moment. "Did you say anything to dad?"

"No," said Bran. "He's been in a foul mood all week because of that Malfoy thing."

"Oh," she said and then they settled back to listen to the crackling of the fire. A few moments passed before she turned back to him. "We really are going to have to talk to Harry first aren't we?"

Bran released his lip from his teeth and glanced at her. "Yeah," he said finally. "I think we are."

"Tomorrow?" she asked.

He looked down and nodded. "Tomorrow."

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Molly set the steaming cup of tea down in front of her son and tried to read the pensive expression on his face as only a mother can.

"Mum," he said after taking a sip of the soothing liquid. "Do you really think he can do it?"

She sighed and fiddled with the sugar bowl on the table. "Well, he has Dumbledore's support. I daresay that's enough, isn't it?"

"I suppose," he said and then he returned his attention to the surface of his tea.

"He's so young," Molly said after another brief period had passed.

"I know, Mum," Bill told her. He reached a hand out and gently pried her fingers off the sugar spoon and squeezed them between his own.

She felt the tears start to well up in the corners of her eyes. "You all are so young, Bill." His fingers started to move in a gentle circle pattern on her hands. "If only," she sighed and her eyes drifted towards the clock whose hands represented every member of her family. At the sight of it she felt her tears threaten to pour out over her cheeks.

Then her son's hands were cupping the sides of her face and forcing her to look at him. "Don't do this to yourself again, Mum," he said sternly. "You don't deserve to think like this. It will all work out," he added more gently. "I know it will. I'll… I'll…" he seemed to battle with the thought before he sighed and met her eyes again. "I'll move back home and help, I'll do anything I can. I promise."

"Oh, Bill," she sighed and reached up to grab his hands so she could hold them. "I can't ask you to do that. You've your own life to live and you're not…" she swallowed heavily and forced her emotions under control again. "You're not your father. You don't deserve these burdens either."

"No," he said, "But I can help, and I will, you'll see," then he smiled. "Besides, you saw the pretty blond in his memories. That's got to be worth something right?"

Despite herself laughter bubbled up in her chest and she grinned at her eldest son. "Yes, I daresay it is." She waited another moment before looking up at her son again. "Do you think he can do it, Bill?" she asked.

For a long time she wasn't sure he was going to answer her, but then Bill looked up and met her gaze seriously. "I hope so, Mum. I miss Ginny so much. She belongs home."

"Yes," Molly said as her eyes drifted once again towards her clock where's Ginny's slim hand rested in 'Mortal Peril.' "She does."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tonks foot was in a very inappropriate place, and Sirius was staring at the table so intently Remus was sure he had somehow developed x-ray vision. Then suddenly the thought of Sirius developing x-ray vision and being able to see exactly what Tonks was doing made Remus very uncomfortable.

"Ow!" Tonks shouted as she jerked forward in her chair, and her foot made contact with the floor.

Sirius glanced at her. "What happened?" he asked.

Remus did his best not to blush and to maintain his innocent look even under the intensity of the harsh glare Tonks was sending his way.

"Nothing, Sirius," Tonks growled. "I just hit my foot on the table, that's all."

"Oh," said Sirius, already loosing interest in the brief distraction. He returned to staring at the table.

Remus shot Tonks an apologetic glance and watched her roll her eyes in response. He rather thought he'd pay for that later, but he was sure she'd understand.

"Knut for your thoughts, Sirius?" Tonks said, leaning over the table with her palms outstretched.

"Worth more than a knut, Tonksy," Sirius responded, but smiled at her anyways.

Remus dug in his pocket. He knew he couldn't find anything more than a knut, but he did have a few candies and a chocolate gallon from Honeydukes. He pulled it out and offered it to his friend.

Sirius grinned and snatched it out of his hand. "Ah, you know me too well, old friend." He peeled back the gold foil and popped the thing in his mouth.

"You could've shared you know," Tonks growled at him, looking slightly like a petulant child. Remus sighed and fished around in his pockets until he found another one to appease her. He was rewarded with a melting smile that caused his heart to clench painfully in his chest.

"You ate the chocolate," he told her, trying not to sound flirtatious. "Now you owe me your thoughts."

Sirius licked his lips, somehow only managing to spread the chocolate further. "Did you really need to buy mine to figure them out?" He shook his head and reached for his abandoned drink to take a long swig.

"What do you think of Snape?" Tonks asked Remus. "You guys were both in school together, you know more about him than me. Other than the fact that he's a git and a horrible teacher, I mean."

Remus twitched his lips and thought on the problem seriously. How did he feel about Severus Snape?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Harry said they looked to him?" Lily asked.

James let out an exasperated sigh and nodded. "At least that's what he says."

"And Dumbledore?" she prompted.

"Seems to be just as delusional. He seems to believe everything Harry says," James ran a hand through his hair and swung his legs up onto the bed.

Lily scooted closer, feeling the need to have his skin on hers, hoping that by doing so she could somehow comfort him. "And what do you think, James?"

The sounds of the dying fire filled the room for several extended moments while James sat and thought. Lily waited for him as patiently as possible though she felt that whatever the end result of this conversation would be, would determine both of their next moves. So far, she didn't know what to think. Which would be worse; a son who thinks he can face Voldemort? Or a son who can face Voldemort? For now, she would have to trust her husband's judgment, and hope that they could come to a decision together.

"I didn't listen to what else Harry had to say," James said finally. "I barely listened. It all just sounded like nonsense. Killing Voldemort… not being able to kill Voldemort… the Order… being the Boy-Who-Lived… parseltongue… It all just sounded like nonsense," he repeated again.

Lily put her hand gently on his. "Do you think it was nonsense, James?"

"I told him to talk to me tomorrow, after he had a good nights sleep and could sort everything out," he said.

"But do you believe him, James," she said, trying again.

"Am I supposed to believe him?" James said a little hotly. "Nothing he said sounded even remotely believable. No one in their right mind would have wasted a minute listening to his lies."

"James," Lily said softly, she squeezed her fingers into his, forcing him to allow her to grasp his sweaty hand. He was nervous, and his grip was tight. "Do you believe him?" she said one last time.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and swallowed heavily. "I wish I didn't," he said softly.

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"What're you doing?" Ron nearly shouted, until she motioned desperately for his silence.

"Can't you see they're having a bit of a private moment?" said Hermione, rushing them back out of the portrait hole.

Ron glanced passed her, but all he saw were the two Potter children sitting on the couch before the portrait of the Fat Lady swung shut again.

"What'd you wake me up for if you're not going to go in?" the Fat Lady demanded.

Hermione glared at her. "Sorry, but I realized I left a my homework in the library, c'mon, Weasley."

"What—?" Ron demanded as Hermione tugged his arm and pulled him away from the common room door. "What've I got to follow you for?"

She didn't pause, but glared back at him resentfully. "I caught you out after curfew, and I'm the Head Girl."

Ron pulled his arm back roughly, but continued to follow her anyways. "That doesn't mean I've got to do whatever you say. You've given me my punishment and led me back to the common room like a good little girl, Granger. Now, I just want to go to bed." He stopped walking and made to turn around until he noticed her come to a halt, too.

"Fine," she said, her lips twisting as if she was thinking of something very unpleasant. "You walk with me down to the library and back and I'll pretend like I didn't find you wandering the dungeons, okay?"

As quickly as he could Ron weighed the offer. He had been given a weeks worth of detention and docked twenty house points. "Agreed," he said, it was a fair trade. More than fair, really… "Why?" he asked, suddenly suspicious. Why would she, little miss goody-two-shoes, want to overlook the rules like that just to go on a walk… The realization dawning on him, Ron started smirking. "You like me," he said.

Her eyes widened in horror and she started walking back down the hall. "Don't disgust me, Weasley."

"C'mon," he said, hurrying after her, suddenly enjoying himself very much. "Admit it, Granger. You've got an outrageous crush on me."

"No," she snapped back, clearly not as amused by the predicament as he was. "What I wanted was to give Bran and Mare a moment to themselves."

Ron wrinkled his nose, but he couldn't figure out why they would need to be left alone. "Why?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Because it's tactful, something you obviously know nothing about."

He glared at her. "Shut up, Granger." They walked on in restless quite until they reached the library. Then since Hermione had obviously been making up an excuse to the Fat Lady they turned back around without retrieving any forgotten homework.

"What'd we have to leave for though?" Ron asked, trying again.

"You've got a bit family, don't you?" she asked, sounding exasperated. "Don't you ever need a private moment alone with one of your brothers?"

Ron thought about the Burrow and then about his brothers. "No," he answered immediately.

"Well," Hermione sighed. "Then maybe it's just a brother and sister thing," she said carelessly.

Ron tensed up, but kept on walking.

Hermione seemed to immediately realize her choice of wording and the silence became even more uncomfortable.

"You know I didn't mean it that way," she said after a moment had passed.

"What way?" he said, voice strained. He didn't want to think about it, let alone talk about it, least of all with her.

"You know," she said.

He didn't answer.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He ran his fingers along the scales of Nagini's spine, letting them linger while she slithered forward.

"He is searching for more information as you suspected, my Lord," the Death Eater that stood before him said.

"Whom has he been speaking to?" he asked.

"Snape," the Death Eater said, voice trembling slightly as Nagini raised herself on her tail and her head neared the level of his own. "He has also sent a letter to his son."

"And the letter said what?" he asked.

The Death Eater stumbled back a bit, trying to set a distance between himself and Nagini. "I—I do not know, my Lord. I was not able too see what it said."

He frowned in displeasure, but moved on in his questioning. "Did he reveal anything else of interest?"

"He—he, ah," the Death Eater said, moving forward a bit now that Nagini was retreating back to her spot at the Dark Lords feet. "Seemed to think that the memory you found was planted."

"Planted?" he mused aloud. "What I found in his head was a true memory."

"Between Malfoy and the Potter boy?" the Death Eater asked.

"Yes, Lucius seemed to be under the impression that he had more to offer than I did."

"Never, my Lord," the Death Eater was quick to assure.

The Dark Lord remained silent, and then he reached down to feel Nagini's reassuring scales again. "I want more information, Wormtail, I want you to continue to trail Lucius until you have more concrete evidence. He is a valuable asset to my cause, but this defiance cannot be allowed."

The Death Eater bowed low and hurriedly and made to exit.

"Oh, and Wormtail, bring back everything Lucius discovers about Harry Potter to me."

A/N: I had a lot of trouble uploading this chapter, for some reason wouldn't take my doc and it edited it out my page/line breaks so I had to improvise a bit. I hope to get it replaced in the next few days, but if it bothers you, the chapter is also up on my webpage (there's a link on my authors page under homepage). Sorry the chapter is shorter than usual, I was trying something a little different. I've started work on Chapter 16 which should be more to what you're expecting (and waiting for), and I think it should be up around Christmas depending on how my exams go. In the mean time, enjoy and as always: THANKS for reading!

S.L


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